Spearhead: All The King's Men
by Darksider
Summary: Bast has turned the tide of the war at Gryphon and now levels her sights upon Earth.
1. Default Chapter

  
  
  


**Spearhead: All The King's Men  
**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Prologue  
**  
  
  


**December 2nd 2010**

SHA-CHUNK!!

WHHRRR-FA-WOOOSH!!

The Stargate burst into life, the event horizon reaching explosively outward and then retreating just as quickly to form a vertical pool of rippling quicksilver.

The wormhole fluctuated and with little fanfare an average sized figure in charcoal grey, combat armour suit, flanked by two huge and very heavily armed, armour-clad troopers, stepped onto the stone platform in front of the Stargate.

Brigadier General Samantha Carter fought back a rising tide of rage as she surveyed the darkened landscape through her vision-enhancing visor. Bodies littered the immediate area around the Stargate. Even though it was noon, local time, the sky was dark with thick ash, the air heavy and hard to breathe. Thanks to the orbital strikes, the skies were now thick with dust, blocking out the sun, leaving Cimmeria in permanent twilight. In the distance, clouds of smoke rose from beyond the treeline where forest fires raged out of control.

Her attention was finally drawn to several figures, also in combat armour, standing beside the DHD. "Captain West? Report." She ordered tersely and she strode off the platform to meet him.

Captain West stepped away from his squad. "It's not good, ma'am." He began. "We've performed a recon out to twenty kilometres, as far as the township of Thull. There's nothing there."

Carter stared at him, not wanting to believe his report. "No survivors at all?"

The other man shook his head. "You're in armour so wouldn't be able to tell but its getting harder to breathe around here by the day." He gestured to the landscape. The horizon, which thanks to numerous forest fires, was a fiery red and combined with the black clouds of soot and dust, lent a perfect cast to the dead strewn haphazardly about. "Whoever did this wanted everyone dead. The orbital strikes killed the towns and villages and then they put Jaffa on the ground to finish up the slaughter. These people appeared to have been trying to escape through the Stargate."

Fists balled in frustration, Carter walked slowly among the dead. "This is an Asgard world. These people were protected by the Asgard for so long..."

Captain West sighed disgustedly. "I'd say the cat's out of the bag, General. This was obviously a test and it's safe to say that the System Lords now know that the Asgard Fleet is effectively defunct."

The commander of Spearhead nodded reluctantly. "Bury these people, Captain." She ordered, gesturing to the bodies lying around the Stargate. "It's not much but it's all we can do for them now."

"What about the rest of the Asgard Protectorates, ma'am?" West asked bluntly. "There's gotta be hundreds of worlds out there that have lost their protection..."

"I know, Captain!" Carter interrupted with rising anger. "But what would you have us do? The Fleet has barely recovered from getting its ass handed to it at Gryphon. We're sure as hell in no shape for a crusade at the minute!"

Disgusted with herself for letting her frustration out on her sub-ordinates, she turned away and looked off into the distance instead. The scene of devastation was hardly any comfort, though it matched the blazing fire in her heart perfectly. "We'll make them pay." She murmured. "God knows how, and with God knows what...but we'll make them pay."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 1  
A New Year's Resolution...  
**  
  


**11:43 ZULU  
December 29th 2009  
United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England  
**

"We need more ships, not your damned excuses!" A rich, French-accented voice shouted out.

"Then come to the yards and build 'em yourself!" An Australian-accented voice heatedly replied.

"This Council will come to order!"

Premier Illiana Kutsov of the Russian Republic and current Chairman of the World Council, banged her gavel several times in an effort to halt the shouting match that had erupted between the French and Australian heads of state. The Australian Prime Minister Henry Taylor, face tight with anger adjusted his tie and sat down carefully, as if ready to pounce into the fight once more at the slightest provocation. The French Chief of State, Prime Minister Montagne sneered one last time as he sat in his seat. The rest of the Council, all one hundred and eleven of them, sat back, slightly amused or disgusted by the display but remained silent except for the occasional chuckle.

Kutsov shot a warning glance at Taylor and then glared at Montagne. "Prime Minister Montagne, I understand feelings are running high but there will be no insults slung back and forth in this chamber as if it was some schoolyard. I am making myself clear, yes?"

At Montagne's reluctant nod, she turned to Prime Minister Taylor, who nodded tightly.

President Kinsey rolled his eyes from the sidelines as he watched Premier Kutsov bring the heads of state to task very much in the manner of a school headmistress. Wearily, he consulted his notes on the current slow down in military construction. Abrasive manner aside, Montagne had a point. The Navy did need more ships. Unfortunately, Taylor also had a point. There were only so many resources available to put into construction and ships and fighters and the massive construction yards in the US, Great Britain, Germany and Australia were beginning to show the strain of nearly five years of continuous output. There were simply too many priorities and not enough raw materials.

There were a few prospects on the horizon to relieve this bottleneck, notably of which was the Japanese-South African asteroid mining project. Strange bedfellows that they seemed, they were well suited to the task; the Japanese had the high-technology, the South Africans had the mining experience and both had vast cash reserves which they ploughed into the project. Unfortunately, initial progress was still slow and the imports of ores and refined metals from the asteroid belts were still years away from being anything more than a trickle.

Kinsey found himself glancing across the Chamber at the hulking grizzly bear of Admiral J'Thuk from Sintesia who was sat amongst the more human-looking Admiral Serena from Polaris and Admiral Marakesh from Entrica. They were all sat to one side of the Council Chambers behind the Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson. The other 'Forge Worlds' of the Alliance were in similar positions to Earth except for Sintesia who, despite having almost as many internal conflicts as Earth, had been in space for almost two hundred years and had been making full use of their Solar System's resources for a long time.

( Historical Index - 0014-5336 Sintesian First Contact - With a war-depleted population of only a billion or so natives, the grizzly bear-like humanoids of Sintesia proved to be a god-send of the Alliance. Far from the Goa'uld territories, the Sintesians had evolved without any alien interference in their entire recorded history (which went back almost twenty thousand years...) the Stargate having been buried deep under one of their mountains. Quite by accident, one of their mining teams found the Stargate (with no DHD) and once their government got their hands on it, they spent the next ten years figuring it out.  
In the course of their experimentation and the random dialling of the chevrons, they managed to get two addresses working. One address led to a desolate wasteland, the other to a lush world with no sentient natives. A perfect place for a colony their leaders thought and so by the equivalent Earth year of 2007, nearly twenty million Sintesians had made a home on that green, fertile world. Unfortunately, that world also lay on the far side of the Galaxy, smack in the middle of the territory of a relatively minor System Lord who served under Bast's Union.  
Upon learning of their presence in his territory, the System Lord, typical of his kind, sent two Hat'ak Motherships to subdue the colony for possible slaves. The Jaffa Legions attacked, expecting a quick victory but soon found themselves pushed back hard, the days of fighting stretching into weeks. The Sintesians, the xenobiologists said, were not a warrior race per se, but attacking a fully sentient life form that had an average height of seven feet, twice human norm strength and who still remembered the lessons learnt from a global war probably wasn't the wisest thing to do.  
Still, the System Lord sent more Legions into the fight and the Sintesian defences steadily began to buckle until, thanks to Tok'ra Intelligence who heard whispers of the small war being raged, the brand new ships of the Earth Navy arrived unexpectedly in orbit and blew away the Hat'ak Motherships.  
SG-Alpha, SG-Beta, SG-Gamma and SG-Delta swooped down in the Orca transports, covered by flights of Sabres and Pegasus bombers and hit the rear positions of the Jaffa army hard.  
Though unable to communicate linguistically, the Sintesians didn't need to talk to realize the current intentions of their new benefactors, and pressed hard against the Jaffa. Caught between two armies, the Jaffa Legions were wiped out.  
The Sintesian and Human forces were wary at first but as basic communication steadily improved and thanks to a little Tollan help, a 'universal translator' was put together and the first steps towards the Alliance were taken.)

Regardless, thanks to the numerous construction yards of the Alliance and despite the shortage of resources, Third Fleet was almost back to full strength but their losses at Gryphon had set fleet expansion schedules back by months, if not years.

Kinsey returned his attention to Kutsov, who had moved the conversation towards the recent slaughter of the people of Cimmeria.

"There is an Alliance Security Council meeting in four days. I imagine there will be talk of forming some sort of response to this atrocity. Are they any considerations you would like to see brought before the Council?"

The Japanese Foreign Minister used his desk computer to signal his desire to speak. Kutsov noted the signal and gestured for the diminutive man who was covering for the Japanese Prime Minister, Isagi Kaneda, who was ill and unable to make the trip to the Council Meeting. "Thank you, madam chair. I wish to enquire whether the response would include punitive military strikes against Goa'uld installations or whether circumstances dictate changes made to our defensive strategy?"

Kinsey rolled his eyes once more but this time in disgust. "What you mean is, is the Fleet actually able to form a military response since we got our butts kicked so hard the last time?"

The Foreign Minister ignored the sarcasm and considered the American's sarcastic statement with all seriousness. "Yes. That is exactly what I am asking."

Kutsov suppressed a grin and gestured to the Lord Sir Henry Patterson, who was seated to one side as the military advisor to the Council for this meeting.

Sir Henry didn't bother to hide his smile of amusement as he levered himself up out of his comfortable chair next to Admiral J'Thuk and moved towards the centre of the Council Chamber. The subject he was about to discuss, however, wiped the smile from his face quickly enough.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council, the Alliance military chiefs have thought long and hard since the news of the Asgard Fleet's mutual annihilation with the Replicators. I cannot stress how much danger this places everything we have achieved to date."

He gestured to an aide at the side of the Council Chamber who manipulated a computer, activating the massive wall screen display. A long list of planets with small data blocks on each one began to scroll down the screen.

"Recently, we asked the Asgard to provide us with a list of worlds in our Galaxy that used to fall under their protection. Since the attack on Cimmeria and a handful of other worlds the Goa'uld have taken recently, that number stands at four hundred and fifteen."

A fragile silence greeted this announcement. There had been some talk among the Council members of taking over the duties of the Asgard and bring their protectorates into the Alliance but the Navy didn't really have enough ships to defend one defenceless world against a concerted attack, let alone over four hundred.

Admiral Patterson nodded grimly as if he could read their thoughts. "As you can see, this number is quite larger than any of our chaps had considered. The good news is that barely three hundred of those systems fall within Goa'uld territories and the System Lords have only ever shown interest in two hundred and forty two of them. Stargate Command has begun generating Stargate addresses for the worlds outside the Goa'uld sphere of influence in the hope of enlisting them in the Alliance but since the Asgard don't generally protect worlds that can actually protect themselves, we hold little hope that these world will provide any significant military presence in the near future."

The German Chancellor frowned. "They're more likely to be a burden if we take on the task of upgrading a hundred low-tech worlds. We're barely making progress now, courting half a dozen low-tech worlds, as it is."

Patterson shrugged. "You're right, of course. As I said, near-term, we don't expect any significant returns from whatever investment we make, but long-term, such a decision to invest would reap massive dividends."

The Peruvian President leaned forward, intently. "What about General Directive 3? I'm sure many of these worlds would fall under its auspices..."

The Admiral of the Fleet turned to Chairman Kutsov and acknowledged his silent request to respond to that question. "Mr President, I can assure you that we will send a probe and if any of the civilisations appear to have a...how did the social-xenobiologists put it? A 'high-negative response quotient', we will forego any First Contact and let them develop without any outside interference, from the System Lords or the Alliance, as per General Directive 3."

Assuaged, the Peruvian head of state leaned back, gesturing for the Admiral to continue.

"To get back to the Foreign Minister's question...No, we have no plans to form a specific military response beyond that strike plans already developed. To deviate any more than we already have with the 'Battle of Gryphon' would run further risk to Operation Spring Clean." The Admiral shook his head. "Quite frankly, we want to keep the focus on Gryphon at the minute and so we've assigned the refurbished Third Fleet to run constant ops against the Goa'uld forces in the Gryphon system. Nothing decisive or too destructive to our forces, just enough to keep them off balance and wear them down on a continual basis, forcing them to reinforce constantly, allowing us to build up our forces for a decisive fight to take and hold Gryphon once and for all."

Premier Tang of China grunted softly. "You failed to hold Gryphon the first time, what makes you confident you can hold it again?"

"Quite." Patterson smiled tightly and gestured to the Sintesian Admiral. "You see, sir, the planetary defences we installed on Gryphon were very limited in numbers and sparsely emplaced. The Sintesians are digging deep and producing as many components as possible and as time goes by, we have managed to begin building up a very respectable defence grid on each world of the Alliance. Enough so, that combined with a large Navy presence, we are confident of soon being able to hold off an attack from a force three times stronger than what we faced at Gryphon, meaning as many as fifteen Shal'kra's or over thirty Hat'ak's."

The entire Council seemed to be simultaneously surprised and impressed. The thought of watching thirty Motherships destroy themselves against Earth's defences seemed to appeal to some of them.

Kinsey was sat silently, manipulating the computer embedded into his bench and scanning the latest strategic intelligence reports on Goa'uld intentions. One report caught his attention immediately. "Admiral Patterson, could you explain to me what you believe the probable intentions of Bast and her cronies are? Outside of the Gryphon conflict that is..."

Patterson cursed silently under his breath. He had hoped that the Council wouldn't notice that until after the meeting had finished. The last thing he needed was a panic among the upper echelons of power. "You are referring to the reports of Bast's build up, in apparent readiness to begin a new offensive against Yu and the Separatists?"

Kinsey smiled grimly at the British Admiral's attempt to avoid the issue. "No, Admiral, I mean the one concerning Earth."

"Ah, that." Patterson replied, glancing at Kutsov who shrugged as if to say it was a forlorn hope that none of the others would notice that specific report. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for the onslaught.

"Mr President, the report you mention refers to Strategic Intelligence's assessment that ONE of Bast's next probable moves is a serious strike at Earth."

The entire Council erupted in an uproar. Suddenly, the thought of thirty Motherships in Earth orbit didn't seem so appealing.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Lord Sir Admiral Patterson walked through the side exit of the council chambers with a dark expression on his face, muttering about 'thrice-damned politicians', only to be met by the weathered, craggy face of General Stuart, and General O'Neill who was leaning casually against the far wall of the corridor.

"Told you they'd freak over that report, Henry." Stuart began, smiling widely. "Nothing like a little personal risk to get the politico's blood pumping and the feet beating...a path to the secure bunkers that is."

Patterson shook his head in wonder at the spectacle he had just witnessed. "They were practically ready to call DefCon 1 right then and there."

O'Neill snorted in amusement. "Whaddya expect? Anyhow, it'll be good for them to live life on the edge for a while."

Looking at the two Americans with a gimlet eye, Patterson forced his attention to other matters. "And just what are you two misfits doing, haunting the halls here in Greenwich?"

Stuart gestured for them to start walking as he explained. "Me, O'Neill here and President Kinsey are making a tour of the shipyards here on Earth. We've been to our Connecticut, Philadelphia and Colorado yards this past week, tomorrow we hit the Vosper yards here in the UK and the Bremerhaven yards in Germany and in four days we visit the Victoria yards in Australia."

"Lighting a fire under the yard managers?" Patterson asked.

"Not really." O'Neill replied as they walked by a small collection of American, Chinese and Korean officers who had scooted with haste to one side of the corridor and were practically hugging the walls in order to let the three most ranking men in the Alliance past. "Even Kinsey acknowledges the current construction problems are due to a materiel bottleneck. No, he just wants to see each of the yards personally, see the workers and give them his thanks and so on. It's the President's last term, you see, and the Yards have been his baby since the very beginning. He was the one who pushed through the funding bills and research sharing programs that built the yards in the first place."

"He's still an annoying bugger to deal with though." Patterson added.

Stuart smiled wryly. "Kinsey might be a pain in the ass but he actually listens to his people, or at least the right people, which is a lot more than more that most politicians seem to do." He nodded pleasantly to a French Major and an Israeli Colonel that walked past them as they reached Patterson's office. They greeted the civilian secretary at the front desk and walked straight in. "Is Third Fleet ready to go back out again?" Stuart asked quietly once they had made themselves a coffee each and sat down at Patterson's desk.

The Admiral of the Fleet nodded firmly. "Admiral Kent has absorbed pretty much all of the new construction and all of the trainees from the Naval Academy. Even though we're still using experienced naval officers, they're still pretty raw when it comes to duty in space but the veteran's in the Fleet are working them hard. Kent's confident he can take on anything in his weight class and win."

Stuart nodded and looked at O'Neill in satisfaction. The reports that came across his desk regarding Third Fleet had said much the same thing. O'Neill shifted in his chair slightly and frowned slightly as he studied the British Admiral. "I know you've already assigned a series of strike missions to Admiral Kent but I have a couple of extra jobs I want you throw his way."

Patterson frowned concernedly. O'Neill was the senior military chief and if he wanted a target hit, he only had to attach it to the 'targeting' list and it would get farmed out to the next available asset capable of doing the job. "You want it done unofficially then, I assume, since you're giving me a tasking order over a cup of coffee."

Slightly uncomfortable under the Admiral's pointed gaze, O'Neill raised his hands in surrender. "Relax, Henry, it's nothing treasonous, just something I don't want the Diplomatic Corp to raise a stink over."

"Oh?" Patterson replied with studied casualness. Stuart suppressed a smile as he saw that the Admiral was more than a little intrigued, despite the cloak and dagger routine.

"Yeah, what it is, you see, is that the diplomats have been putzing around for over a year, trying their damnedest to bring the Adenans and the Susparti into the Alliance, with little success to date."

Patterson grimaced and shrugged helplessly. "From what I understand, the Adenans are fairly xenophobic, even if they are more or less human. They barely respond to the diplomatic envoys, let alone take part in a dialogue. And the Susparti...hell, if anybody claims to be able to understand what goes on in the head of those lizards they'll be the first, and probably a liar at that!"

Stuart nodded in agreement. "All true to a point. But some of my analysts have been going over the diplomatic exchanges, cultural databases that have been exchanged to date, that sort of thing and they believe that we've gotten nowhere with either race because all we've done is talk to them."

"That's what diplomat's do, Orin..." Patterson pointed out.

"Yeah, but we my boys and girls think is that they would respond more favorably to a show of force. Not against themselves but against the Separatist System Lords they've been fighting off."

"Now hold a second, gentlemen, if we move against the Separatists, even in a limited fashion, we could push them under Bast's Union and then we'd all be well and truly screwed." Patterson replied heatedly.

Both generals winced slightly but remained calm. Stuart sighed. "Henry, it's a risk, I know but since day one this war's been about balances and tradeoffs. I know it's not something we'd want to move on right away but you've read the same reports I have. Bast and her people have been kicking Separatist butt up and down the Galaxy. Our projections of the war are being revised steadily as she frees up more and more units to bring to bear against us. We need more powerful allies and the Adenans and especially the Susparti have both held their own, alone, against several System Lords for a lot longer than we've been in space. They'd be a massive boost to the Alliance, Henry, and I think the risk is worth it."

Patterson sighed. "What is it, exactly, that you want me to do?

O'Neill smiled and passed over a small datapad. "The Adenans have done incredibly well fighting off the Goa'uld attacks but if you read between the lines, I think they're becoming desperate. No matter how advanced their technology, they're only one world and they can't support the fleet a successful defense demands. They're desperate but their admittedly justified xenophobia, built up of having fought parasitic aliens for the better part of a century, prevents them from asking for help. I think helping them out anyway with show them that a partnership can be of mutual benefit. Detach a scout section to deploy sat-probes and patrol the areas around Adenan space. If and when a Goa'uld force shows up, kill it."

"You're going to get me court-martialled." The Admiral replied evenly. "How do you think the Adenan will respond?"

"They won't, at first. But if my guess is right, our diplomatic exchanges should start to become a lot more responsive real quickly."

Patterson grinned. "You know Shiv will throw a fit when he finds out what you've done."

Stuart shrugged. "Who's gonna tell him?"

Shaking his head in exasperation, Patterson acquiesced. "Very well. I'm planning continual recon sweeps of the Gryphon system, looking for any weaknesses in the Goa'uld lines to prey upon...a few scouts sent to Adenan space won't be missed in the shuffle."

"Excellent." O'Neill replied. "Since we lost all communication with Gryphon, we have little idea how things are progressing there and any intelligence you can acquire would be invaluable. I have an operation in the works whose objective is to hit a wide range of Union assets, forcing Bast to use up her reserves there as well as at Gryphon. If we can start rolling back Bast's available forces, perhaps she won't contemplate a strike on Earth after all."

Lord Sir Henry Patterson, Admiral of the Fleet raised his eyebrows at the sheer naked optimism that comment revealed. "One can hope..."  
  
  


**03:21 LOCAL  
Sector Four, Edo Defense Line, Gryphon**

It wasn't even dawn and the skies were still dark as General Tyler, commanding officer of the Capital Guards, stood at the lip of a trench in Sector Four of the Edo defense line and looked out cautiously through a pair of electro-binoculars to see into the 'No-Man's Land'. As far out to ten kilometres, the churned up, blistered and cratered ground was littered with burnt out Gryphon Army 'Katana' tanks, Jaffa attack scorpions and transport beetles and more than a few unrecovered bodies from both sides. This position, a lynchpin point in the outer line of defense, was three miles from the edge of Edo, right up to the circumference of the city's canopy shield.

The CO of this Sector, Commander Ashigara Morton, stood beside him patiently, wondering what he'd done to deserve a visit from the General this early in the morning.

"There's a lot of destroyed enemy armour in this Sector. More here than in Sector's Seven and Eight combined." The General commented.

Commander Morton shrugged. "We were hit pretty hard last week."

"Your losses?"

"Relatively light. Thirty-eight dead, forty-two wounded, eight missing in action. I lost thirty-two Katanas pushing them back two days ago." His teeth bared themselves in a feral smile, the first sign of overt emotion Tyler had seen from the Commander in almost a fortnight. "We took over twenty Scorpions in exchange."

Tyler smiled internally at the outstanding exchange ratio for the tanks but displayed no outward sign of it. The Type 4 Katana tank was no match for the Goa'uld Scorpions but Gyphon factories could produce Katanas much faster than Hek'at could produce his six legged monstrosities.

The invasion had been going on for two months now and Intelligence put Jaffa losses at almost thirty thousand dead. Not counting the local offensives that chewed up the Katana tank divisions, Gryphon losses were less than half than those of the Jaffa thanks to the traditional advantage of the defender but that was still too many for Tyler's comfort. "It'll be almost two weeks till the next land-train from the factories in New Kurasaki, can you hold your Sector till then?"

"As long as you need us to, sir." Morton replied confidently.

A low, pounding rumble was suddenly felt through the soles of their feet. Tyler looked to his comms officer who stood to one side, his hand against the side of his head, listening intently to his secure tactical radio.

"Sector Nine is taking fire along their front, both direct and indirect artillery. No sign of a push forward by infantry or armour." The comms officer reported in the emotionless voice that only the best radio operators can achieve when under intense stress.

Tyler nodded absently even as the exhausted, sleeping soldiers around him ignored the exchange as intently as the officers who knew the General was here, followed it. The artillery was a wake-up call from Hek'at, just to see if anybody was asleep over here. No doubt he had several Legions hidden away, ready to make that push just in case his artillery fire had unexpected, beneficial results. The Sector commander over there knew his stuff, however, and there was no need for him to interfere so Tyler simply grunted in acknowledgement and went back to scanning the field in front of him.

The sky above him suddenly exploded in orange fire as plasma blasts from orbiting Goa'uld Motherships impacted against the canopy shield, causing the sleeping soldiers to jerk awake, grab their weapons and move into position against the trenches.

The comms officer was receiving an update before the fire had barely started. "Long range orbital fire from two Hak'at Motherships. Heavy but inaccurate at their current range..." A plasma blast ploughed into the ground a kilometre away, outside the range of the shield. The megajoules of energy blossomed outward in a wave of intense heat. Seconds later, the heat wave passed over the front lines, causing some of the soldiers to shy away. "...Shields are holding. General Roberts is requesting your presence back at HQ." The comms officer finished.

The General stepped down from the lip of the trench, handing the electro-binoculars back to Commander Morton and looked around at the now wide-awake troops.

"Gonna be a hell of a day." He announced to no one in particular.  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**03:32 LOCAL  
Edo Defense Command Centre**

Ten minutes later, General Tyler strode swiftly past the guards at the main door and into the Command Centre. An almost subliminal rumble shook the facility as another volley from the Motherships in orbit hit the canopy shields protecting Edo. Tyler surveyed the officers and technicians of the Strategic Command Centre working intently at their stations. In front of the main screen, General of the Fist and Supreme Commander of the Gryphon Army, Tadeshi Roberts stood calmly, hands behind his back, studying the display which showed several Hat'ak Motherships dancing around the outer edge of the atmosphere.

Tyler approached the other General while watching the display and grunted as the return volley of shots from the Edo defense system went wide of the evading Motherships.

Roberts shook his head slightly and turned his head to face the gunnery officer. "Hold your fire, those Hat'ak's are too manoeuvrable to hit at this range."

As the gunnery officer acknowledged the order, Roberts turned and greeted his second in command. "Tyler, how's the defensive line looking?"

"Solid, sir." Tyler replied. "A couple of sectors have taken a real pounding and we might need to raid some of the reserves to get them back to strength but other than that, we're still in pretty good shape." He gestured to the massive display screen. "What's going on, sir?"

General Roberts manipulated a small console near his right hand and brought up on the main screen a small window which displayed a 300km tactical display of the Manticore City-Shipyards. "We initially thought it was an all out attack. Their Hat'ak's are pounding the defense systems of cities all over the damn planet. Analysis shows that they're only actually pushing hard against Manticore. The bombardments elsewhere appear to be just to keep our heads down and distracted."

Tyler whistled in respect as he studied the tactical display. Small windows appeared showing video uplinks from various positions in the Manticore defensive line. Over 25 Jaffa Legions were hitting the Manticore defenses, backed up by several dozen echelons of Scorpions and Death Gliders. "That's a lot of metal. Can Manticore hold?"

General Robert's neutral expression belied his internal worry. "Commander Helen seemed confident. Apparently, SG-Omega are already in a fortuitous position outside the defense perimeter, beyond the Jaffa lines. She's initiated Plan Raider 2 and as per the plan, she wants us to make as much noise as possible in eighteen minutes." He replied, pointing to a screen that was five times as wide as it was tall and was dedicated to showing operational timelines. At the moment, the pointer was near still near the beginning of the timeline 'Raider 2'. A small clock to one side showed 'T+ 00h:08m:42s and was counting upwards steadily.

Tyler nodded in understanding and moved over to the communications post, ready to issue the necessary orders to his people.

**03:46 LOCAL  
Defense Command, Manticore City, Gryphon**

Commander Helen of the Axe bit her lip as her mind whirled in thought. The Jaffa were pushing hard against her defenses and though they weren't using as many troops as they had when taking Wakazi in the opening stages of the invasion, they were using enough to worry her.

In the following weeks after the loss of Wakazi, Hek'at had pushed hard against Manticore, rightly seeing the city-shipyards as his next biggest threat. Unfortunately for him, he attacked with only fifteen Legions, less than half of that used against Wakazi and they were slaughtered. That massive loss bought Gryphon High Command a couple of weeks while he brought more Legions through the Stargate and a few light Motherships arrived to reinforce him. As soon as his forces had built up to respectable levels once more, Hek'at somehow managed to block all interstellar communications, cutting off any transfer of information between Gryphon and the rest of the Alliance, and then he attacked three of the smaller shielded, 'sanctuary' cities. Two fell within a week, the third city lasted another nine days before Hek'at broke through their defensive line and for a while, High Command were stunned by the sudden turn of events until fractured reports from those three cities began to filter out.

The citizens of those cities had all been issued whatever weapons could be found and Legion upon Legion of Jaffa were being tied down in suppressing the resisting Gryphonese men, women and children. The city streets had become meat grinders, the buildings had become charnel houses and the average life expectancy of a Jaffa sent into the cities was extremely short indeed.

All of that, combined with the fact that Hek'at had managed to scrape together over twenty Legions and their supporting armour to attack the Manticore city-shipyards meant that he was getting serious about taking the place this time.

"I guess we'll just have to alter his perspective a little..." She murmured to herself. She looked over to her Tactical lieutenant. "Is SG-Omega ready to go?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Helen smiled in anticipation as the numbers on the timeline rolled forward inexorably.  
  
  


**03:48 LOCAL  
SG-Omega, Point X-Ray**

Colonel Avon grimaced as two Death Gliders over flew his position. He shifted his head slightly as they flew off towards the Jaffa Legions attacking the Manticore defenses less than a kilometre away, completely ignoring the one hundred and eight combat armoured troops, strung out in a line across five hundred meters, which were steadily creeping into the Jaffa Legions rear area.

Smiling to himself, he found he couldn't really fault the Jaffa pilots, not when even his armour's enhanced vision had immense trouble spotting the active stealth camouflage of the Mod 1 Combat Armour's nano-matrix skin. The skin utilised microscopic light receivers and emitters that projected light patterns based upon its surrounding environment. The result was something almost exactly like the alien used in that old 'Predator' movie. The suit was relatively easy to spot when moving rapidly but when the wearer was being subtle, you were hard pressed to spot anything at all.

Rumour had it that the boffins at Stargate R&D were experimenting with light-bending technology utilised by those damnable Goa'uld Ashrak assassins, that would make its wearer totally invisible but for now, the Mod 1 suits did their job just fine.

Focussing his attention back to his current situation, Avon realised he was in position. They were currently at the far end of the Tensi Flatlands, a vast expanse of deserts, narrow ravines, small gullies and low ridges that separated Manticore from Wakazi. SG-Omega had used the terrain to good effect and managed to get within three hundred metres of the Jaffa rear assembly area.

In front of him, numerous Jaffa were running back and forth, firing heavy artillery pieces, repairing damaged vehicles and bringing wounded back from the front. His suit computer beeped a warning as a small timeline in the bottom right corner of his visor flashed brightly for his attention.

Time to risk a quick transmission. "Omega units, squawk IFF."

The burst transmission was unlikely to be picked up by Hek'at's Jaffa, especially coming from so close to his receivers where they wouldn't really be looking, but Avon needed to know that all his people were in position. To help with their stealth approached, each Omega trooper had damped down on their suit's electronic emissions, rely on passive sensors only. Now, seconds from their strike, they each risked a quick burst from their IFF transponder, a beacon that allowed the commander to locate each of his invisible soldiers.

In the space of a second, a line of signals appeared on a small tactical map, projected in front of Colonel Avon by his suit visor. Everybody appeared to be position. The timeline beeped once more, even more urgently and a rumble filled the air around him as the Manticore planetary defense system opened fire, sending white bolts of ions into space. In the far distance, Avon though he could make out ion bolts lifting up from the other cities nearby.

General Roberts was playing his part in 'Raider 2' and was providing a distraction.

Now it was time for SG-Omega to play theirs. "All right people, the command post and artillery sections are your primary targets, everything else is secondary but do not, repeat, DO NOT fire upon the Jaffa hospital areas unless you have absolutely no choice. Hek'at and his people have been pretty good about our wounded, we can at least do the same for them."

A string of acknowledgements came back to him from his platoon commanders.

Avon took a deep breath. "ECM section, start your jamming...everyone else, attack!"  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Mak'han grunted with the strain of hauling the spent power cell away from the heavy artillery piece and towards the small dump they had set-up to one side. Heaving the spent cell into position with one last burst of effort, he released his pent up breath and relaxed, his arms and back aching from the continuous efforts of he and his Jaffa brothers this past morning and afternoon.

Pulling a small water container from his belt, he drank deeply and stared out across the wide-open, broken terrain, away from the explosions and his dying brothers as they assaulted the Gryphonese city. Except for the heat, it was much like home. Mak'han frowned slightly as his eyes were drawn to something odd. The ground in the near distance seemed to ripple and blur with disturbing, unnatural intensity. At first he thought it was simply the heat rising from the ground but it was coming from several distinctly separate locations that appeared to be moving closer.

Mak'han wasn't a brilliant man, he wasn't known for his intelligence among his peers and for the most part, it had never bothered him or his brothers but for the first time in his life, his mind put several obscure clues together in a lighting flash of intuition and provided him with the answer. Enemy intruders!

Unfortunately, as he opened his mouth to warn his brothers of the threat he had discovered, a cloud of tungsten darts, accelerated to a good fraction of the speed of light ripped through his chest, killing him before he had even realised he'd been hit.

The shimmering blurs advanced quickly past the dead Jaffa, inside the Legions rear and opened fire.  
  
  


**03:52 LOCAL  
Mothership 'Fist of the Gods', high orbit of Gryphon**  
  


Hek'at frowned as a massive volley of fire erupted from the defense system of all the cities that could range on an enemy target. A lot of the fire went wide but sheer volume meant that a significant number of shots still slammed against the shields of his ships.

"Evasive manoeuvres." He ordered as the bridge rattled from a hit.

A Jaffa Second turned from his console on the right side of the bridge. "First Prime, incoming message from Second Dre'tec."

"Put him through."

The main screen in front of Hek'at flickered into a hash of static that cleared for a moments and then scattered into static once more. "Dre'tec! Report!" Hek'at called out.

"ZZZZZ....attack underway...ZZZ... jamming com....ZZ...unknown number....in our rear...ZZZZZ...." The static cleared suddenly as the Jaffa Second on the bridge made an adjustment to his receivers. "....came out of nowhere and are ripping my rear area to pieces."

Hek'at grimaced as another Jaffa brought a tactical display of the area on a secondary screen showing the disposition of the Jaffa Legions and the approximate positions of the attacking force in Dre'tec's rear. Small windows showed imagery from the rear area.

The assembly area was in chaos, something appeared to be blowing the hell out of Dre'tec's command post, slaughtering the artillery crews and destroying vital supplies for the twenty five Legions that were almost kilometre away, attacking the Manticore defenses. But the hell of it was, they couldn't even see who it was attacking them!

"ZZZZZ...am pulling back to secure...ZZZZZZ....reserves moving up....ZZZZ..." Dre'tec continued to report through the hash of jamming.

Hek'at cursed as he realised the Tau'ri plan. "NO! Dre'tec, the rear attack is a feint! Keep your men oriented toward Manticore! Dre'tec!!" Hek'at turned desperately to the Jaffa Second at the communication console.

The Jaffa shook his head. "I can't guarantee Second Dre'tec received your transmission, there's too much interference at his position..."

Cursing once more, Hek'at tried to raise other Jaffa other outside the source of the jamming. He had to stop Dre'tec from turning his attention from the Manticore defenses.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


**04:01 LOCAL  
Defense Command, Manticore City, Gryphon**

Commander Helen nodded in satisfaction as the lead elements of the Jaffa Legions slowed to a halt in confusion as the logistical area behind them exploded in death and chaos. Low-altitude drone recon imagery showed the rear echelons of Jaffa turning around and heading back to the assembly area to attack the unknown foes that were ripping into their unprotected belly.

Turning to her Tactical lieutenant, she snapped her fingers and pointed towards the main screen. "Send the signal, I want the 8th, 171st and 316th to attack their flanks now! I want a brigade, two if they have them, sent down the middle to reinforce the 9th as they make a limited push forward! Nothing too aggressive, just keep those lead elements of Jaffa pinned down while we encircle them."

The lieutenant inclined his head in understanding and spun round to relay the orders.

Helen turned to her Air-Ops officer, an Earth Navy Captain who had stayed behind on Gryphon with the rest of the Third Fleet fighter elements, when Admiral Kent had evacuated the system.

"Captain West...my flanking forces will need air cover. Fighter and bomber support is at your discretion." Commander Helen informed him.

West nodded respectfully. "Aye ma'am. I'm extending the combat air patrols out beyond the shield perimeter and I have controllers assigned to flights of bombers awaiting 'frag' orders from the ground elements."

Pleased with his initiative, Helen turned back to the main screen and watched her orders take effect.  
  


* * * * * * * *

Colonel Avon landed on his back with a mighty crash, raising a thick plume of dust, his chest plate glowed yellow and hissed harshly from the direct hit he had just taken from a Scorpion tail gun. Two escorting SG-Omega troopers reacted quickly and ripple fired their rail-guns, the first hyper-accelerated tungsten dart smashing the frontal shields of the six legged vehicle, the second dart blowing through armour plating with ease. The Scorpion detonated in a blinding white light, the shockwave blasting outward and sending nearby Jaffa flying in all directions.

Captain Jonas Quinn skidded to a stop next to the prostrate form of the Colonel. "Colonel Avon!"

The deathly still armour jerked sharply as Avon suddenly regained consciousness and bolted upright in alarm. He gritted his teeth in pain just as quickly as his chest screamed in protest.

"Arrgghh, god, that hurts..." He spitted out through his tightly clenched jaw.

Jonas shook his head in awe as he examined the chest plating. The armour had held up pretty well. It was slightly glassy from the intense heat it had been subjected to but it was essentially intact, albeit with minor structural weakness. The downside to Goa'uld energy weapons was that its physical component was fairly negligible and energy could be dissipated, absorbed or redirected in many ways, which is essentially what the armour did. That same armour would shatter with ease with a single shot from a rail gun and Quinn thanked his lucky stars that Bast and her cronies hadn't cottoned onto that fact yet. "I think your good for another shot, Colonel, but I wouldn't chance it. At least, not from a Scorpion."

"I think I'll pass on that test, Captain." Avon replied as he staggered to his feet. "How are we doing?"

Quinn glanced at his tactical display and smiled humourlessly. "Not bad considering we're behind enemy lines and cut off from support by close to twenty thousand Jaffa. We're pretty much in position and the Gryphon Army Regulars have the frontal Legions pinned and are making their pincer push now. We only need to prevent any Legions from escaping our way."

Avon nodded in understanding and then sighed in disgust as he picked up his now bent and broken rail-gun. "Alright, have all Omega units form a siege line, oriented towards Manticore and the Jaffa Legions. We'll hold this point until the pincer reaches us."  
  


* * * * * * * *

**05:42 LOCAL  
Edo Defense Command Centre**

General Roberts had watched the tactical feed in awe as the various Gryphon Army elements surrounded almost twelve Jaffa Legions in a lightning pincer movement and then, over the next fifteen minutes, proceeded to slaughter every last Jaffa in that pocket with artillery and air strikes.

Shocking though the damage to the Jaffa was, Roberts had a growing respect for whoever finally took command over there. The first Jaffa commander never appeared to get over his initial panic and confusion of SG-Omega's rear area deep strike and the subsequent push forward by the Line troops and for a time, it looked like they might actually surround the entire twenty odd Legions attacking them but halfway through the battle, co-ordination among the Jaffa seemed to return and they skilfully managed to enact a breakout, escaping the battlefield with a little over ten Legions, almost half their original force.

A veritable cloud of Death Gliders had arrived to provide cover for the retreating Legions as they ran for the waiting Al'Keht long-range transports and they had taken a heavy toll of the counter-attacking Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers but the fighting had almost completely died out now. Hek'at appeared to have pulled all of his remaining Legions back to his Wakazi base of operations and his orbiting Motherships had retreated to interplanetary space, well away from Gryphon.

At the moment, the tired and elated face of Commander Helen filled the main screen as she finished her after action report.

"...and though casualties among the lead pincer units was heavy, the exchange rate favours us by almost five to one."

Robert inclined his head; a new thought was flashing in his mind. "It might be idea to send out the land-trains a little earlier than usual. I think Hek'at will be too busy licking his wounds to be able to intercept any of the 'trains this time round."

Helen bit her lip and nodded in agreement, the same possibility had occurred to her also. "We'll only need two days at most to get the trains loaded up with the latest production and it'll take at least that long to get the crews together and for me to re-organise my troops for an escort."

Roberts smiled at her obvious competence. "You seem to have things in hand over there. Hand some of it off to your sub-ordinates and get some sleep. I'll organise the other land trains from here and see if we can get an entire rotation between the cities done before Hek'at recovers."

"Roger that, General." Commander Helen replied. "I'll be in contact tomorrow at 08:00. Manticore Defense Command, out."

Roberts turned from the now blank screen towards General Tyler and his assembled deputies. "Alright, Hek'at came close to hurting us this morning but instead, we've given him one hell of a bloody nose instead. Now I want to start rolling back some of forces in the occupied cities. Commander Ota, here's what I want you to do..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 2  
In The Line Of Fire...**  
  
  


**January 15th 2010  
Bast's Fortress, Sohag**

"And I say you are a fool!"

Bast winced at the remark made by Lord Kiptakanae and raised her arms in a placating gesture towards Lady Amun'sul, for whom the insult was intended. The Lady System Lord gritted her teeth in rising anger as she spitted the other Goa'uld with a glare of pure loathing. Kiptakanae had become more and more belligerent, even insulting with the other members of the Union Council and Bast didn't know why. It wasn't like he was under any specific pressure from the Tau'ri or the Separatists; if anything the Separatists seemed to be ignoring him.

Bast smiled internally. Perhaps being ignored was what was pissing him off. "Please, Lord Kiptakanae, calm yourself. Lady Amun'sul has been performing admirably and I see no reason to reprimand her for the current stalemate in her sector of responsibility."

"I suppose she's doing a better job fighting than your pitiful First Prime. How many times has the Tau'ri beaten him? Why the hell don't you replace him with someone who can actually enforce a victory over those damned slaves?" He replied heatedly.

Biting back an instinctive response to protect her lover from the other System Lord's predations, she pretended to consider his question. "It is true Hek'at has failed on more than one occasion but it is who you fail to realise that no Jaffa commander has his string of victories against the Tau'ri either. Like it or not, he is the best commander we have available to us."

Kiptakanae glared at Bast but subsided.

Containing a sigh of relief, Bast directed the meeting to other matters. "Since Lady Asphe'kaht's destruction of Cimmeria, we have yet to encounter an Asgard vessel, receive a communication, or any form of punishment for so obvious a violation of the Protected Planets Treaty."

One of the other council members leaned forward. "What of the Nox and the damned Furlings?"

Bast shrugged. "Not a word from either of them. They're pacifists and isolationists. They've rarely strayed beyond their borders in nigh on two thousand years, I hardly think they'll start reaching out to us now."

She turned to Lady Asphe'kaht. "We have an opportunity to cut the Tau'ri Alliance off at the head. We need to attack Earth but we're stretched far too thin. The majority of our fleets are tied down in pacification or defensive duties except for your small squadron, Lady Asphe'kaht. I want you to join Lady Amun'sul and defeat Lady Morte on Toshan. She's been a thorn in our side for too long and defeating her will not only rid us of a major annoyance but will allow us to re-assign a fair number of ships for an invasion fleet."

Lady Asphe'kaht looked intrigued. "To attack Earth?"

Bast nodded. "We need to remove them from the equation once and for all. How soon can you attack Lady Morte?"

The other woman shrugged. "Say a week to consolidate our forces, maybe another week to formulate a strategy for total victory. Fourteen days from now, my Jaffa shall be victorious on Toshan."

"Excellent." Bast replied. "Once we've rid ourselves of Lady Morte, we'll have close to forty ships of various sizes freed up from our respective fleets and they will form the force that will destroy Earth and have us finally rid of O'Neill and his Alliance."  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Bast walked into her private chambers and gestured for her attendants to disappear. They were gone in a heartbeat and she sighed deeply as she brushed her long hair away from her face, finally beginning to feel herself starting to relax now that she was out of the meeting. A small smile appeared on her finely formed face and she moved towards a large golden sphere that floated about a foot above a metre high marble pedestal.

She waved her right hand, which wore her ribbon device, in front of the sphere. This was her private communication frequency between herself and her lover First Prime Hek'at and it was totally unaffected by the high-power jamming device she and her scientists had finally perfected. Cutting off all transmissions within a five thousand kilometres, she had furnished Hek'at with a supply of jamming satellites to seed in Gryphon orbit. It was only effective against anybody utilising Goa'uld technologies like the long-range communication devices for it had initially been designed to be used against other System Lords but, luckily for her, the Tau'ri had reverse engineered the Goa'uld communication devices and thus were vulnerable.

She however, knew which frequencies remained available and her transmission signal was unaffected but it took Hek'at almost a minute to return to his quarters aboard the 'Fist of the Gods' after it had alerted him to Bast's signal. Her smile grew wider as the golden sphere rippled and Hek'at's face appeared in front of her.

"Hek'at."

The First Prime's hard features seemed to soften. "My love, you are well?"

Bast laughed gently in delight. Every time they spoke, his first words were always the same, asking her if she was alright. She often wondered what Hek'at would do to the person that caused her distress just before she called him.

"Well enough, my love, and much better to see you." She replied.

Hek'at nodded in agreement. "You have brightened my day considerably."

Bast's brow furrowed in concern. "You're usually in quarters at this time of the day, is something happening there?"

Hek'at shrugged helplessly. "We've finally secured one of their city fortresses but there's barely anything left of the place and we're being slaughtered in the other two cities we're fighting for. It just goes on and on. We win a battle, they win a battle." Hek'at shook his head tiredly. "I've lost so many of my Jaffa..."

Her heart tore as she watched him struggle with the emotions he kept locked up and away from his men. "Be strong, my love, continue the fight and keep the Tau'ri occupied with Gryphon while I prepare to come at them where they least expect it."

Hek'at's dark mood lifted slightly. "Lady Asphe'kaht...?"

"...is on her way now. With a little luck, that damned Morte will fall in two weeks time and in little over a month, we will strike at Earth directly."

Savouring the anticipation for a moment, Hek'at shook his head and moved on to a point of concern. "My love, how was Lord Kiptakanae today?"

Bast frowned and inclined her head in curiosity. "No more obstinate and annoying than usual I suppose, why?"

"My people on Sohag occasionally pick up bits and pieces from the some of the other Jaffa under the various System Lord's in the Union." Hek'at explained.

Bast nodded, knowing that the relationships between Jaffa of differing System Lords were either very, very friendly or very, very chilly.

"Well..." Hek'at continued. "...apparently, Lord Kiptakanae has been acting out of character for a while now, he's been harsher on his subjects and on his Jaffa and their loyalty, if not exactly waning is becoming less than solid."

"Not uncommon among the Separatist rabble." Bast supposed. "He has become more hard line this past year or so."

Hek'at shrugged. "It's just a feeling but he has a lot of influence among the System Lord Unionists he represents on the Council. If he's becoming hardline and gaining Separatist tendencies..."

Bast made a noise of agreement while she though furiously. I must be getting tired to miss the signs like that.

"Thank you, Hek'at, I think I'll keep an eye of the good System Lord Kiptakanae and see if he may need replacing." She shook her head slightly in disgust. "Enough of this talk about plots and intrigue. We haven't spoken in almost a week. Talk to me, my love. Tell me of your thoughts of when the war will be won and the Galaxy ours..."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *

**14:00 ZULU  
Stargate Command (West), Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado**

General O'Neill was sat alone in his office, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He'd spent the entire morning going over readiness reports, logistical reports, intelligence reports, reports of reports...he was well and truly sick of reports. As Supreme Allied Commander of the Earth Alliance military, few people were senior to him and he could pawn a lot of work off onto his sub-ordinates if he needed to, 'But alas,' he thought wryly, 'I have had the misfortune to have been born with a sense of duty and it is currently my duty to know that the 3816th Transport Wing has managed to secure a new logistical line along three Alliance worlds that doesn't rely on the Stargate but on Fleet transportation.'

Snorting in half self-disgust and half amusement, O'Neill picked up the logistical report and finished reading it. It really was quite important to open up lines of communication that didn't rely on the Stargate because, as the SGC was coming to acknowledge more and more, Stargate operations can be interfered with by a surprisingly large number of reasons and not all of them were due to the enemy. At least four strikes this past year had been aborted due to solar interference preventing the formation of wormholes.

Knowing first hand the dangers of wormhole travel during sunspot activity, O'Neill nodded in wholehearted agreement of the report's contents.

O'Neill glanced up from the report as his communication unit buzzed for his attention. Pressing the button, he opened the line. "O'Neill." He announced.

"Please hold for the President." A pleasant, sexless voice announced.

O'Neill grunted slightly in response and waited. Twenty seconds later, a familiar voice came across the line.

"Jack, how long will it take you to get to Washington?" President Kinsey asked, without preamble.

"About an hour, sir." O'Neill replied. "I've got nothing important on my plate at the minute so I can leave immediately if necessary."

Kinsey's snort was easily heard on the other end. "Oh, it's necessary, Jack...I've got a copy of a proposal here from your chain of command about seeding the space around Earth with mines and weapon platforms! Now I know that you are still a member of the U.S Air Force and as such are still subject to my orders but as Supreme Commander for the Alliance Military you are also way outside my chain of command and answer only to the Alliance High Council of which Premier Kutsov is currently seated on, but dammit Jack, this proposal is way outside of your authority!"

O'Neill winced at the decibel level near the end of Kinsey's tirade and shook his head wearily. "Mr President, I know you've always had concerns about the extreme military expansion since the start of this war but if you want me to defend Earth then you'll step back from blocking this proposal."

"It's not enough that we have those damned Planetary Defence Centres dotting the world like blisters of Armageddon but now you want to fill the sky with nuclear weapons?" Kinsey raged, barely hearing O'Neill's words.

O'Neill was about to retaliate hotly when something inside him seemed to suddenly fall calm, providing a moment of clarity, allowing him to empathise with Kinsey's feelings on the matter. Kinsey had never like the military, had always abhorred weapons and has a knee-jerk reaction to put a stop to the construction of the only things that will actually save the planet. Not a logical reaction on the President's part but then he wasn't thinking logically at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, O'Neill spoke softly. "Mr President, please think about this...we're barely holding our own in ship-to-ship engagements with the Goa'uld which is pretty astounded considering the technological level were coming from but that's still no good against an enemy that can overwhelm us with numbers if it ever got it's act together. We need as many force multipliers as possible if we're to stand a chance and now, the PDC's are a good start, with their shields and weapons, they'll make every Alliance planet a tough nut for the System Lords to crack. The orbital mines and weapons platforms will make it even tougher."

Silence met his appeal for several seconds and then a calmer President Kinsey spoke. "And what happens when a mine falls out of orbit and lands on London?"

O'Neill shrugged. "We have excellent safeguards and contingencies against any such thing even think about happening. What I'd like to do sir, is to come to Washington with some of my people and you can grill them until you're as confident of the system as I am."

Frowning, O'Neill wished for the days when he was just a Colonel who was more than will to make a wisecrack against authority regardless of consequences. Now, he couldn't run the risk of someone else less able doing his job.

"Okay, General. I've calmed down now." Kinsey replied. "I think it would be an excellent idea if you could come to the White House. I'll assemble a few people who'd benefit from some reassurance, myself included, and we'll meet with your people."

"Thank you, sir." O'Neill replied with barely concealed relief. That was one major crisis averted before it had a chance to get started.

As Kinsey disconnected, O'Neill opened another line to the Scientific Support Division. The duty officer there answered and O'Neill grinned in anticipation of the reaction his announcement of a trip to Washington would bring. The guys and girls down there didn't get out enough as it is.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**19:52 ZULU  
January 22nd 2010  
ENS _Ark_ _Royal_**

Eight days later, Admiral Kent sat in his chair on the flag deck of the ENS _Ark_ _Royal_ and studied the datapad in his hand with satisfaction. Third Fleet had taken heavy losses in ships and in personnel at Gryphon but, thanks to the steadily increasing industry of the Alliance, the Fleet was almost back up to full strength which was now actually 50% larger than before Gryphon. The latest batch of construction from the Alliance shipyards was going to go towards building a Fourth Fleet but Alliance Command decided that the ships would be better off going to boosting the firepower of the existing fleets, especially after the events at Gryphon. Not only that but that many new replacement personnel that had arrived fresh from the Alliance Naval Academy in Southern France had proven themselves very well in the last round of fleet and shipboard drills, the veterans among the fleet having taken the newbie's in hand and imparted to them their hard earned lessons.

"Well, gentlemen, I think we can consider the recent re-qualification trails a success and Third Fleet combat ready." Kent announced easily.

Captain Amanda Tyler, commanding officer of the _Ark_ _Royal_ and Captain Hradetsky, Kent's Hungarian chief of staff, were stood casually by the Admiral's side and the skeleton crew of officers and technicians on the flag deck went about routine shipboard operations. Most of the crew of Third Fleet were on final leave groundside before Third Fleet left on its six-month patrol. On the main viewscreen, the destroyers of Home Fleet could be seen moving back and forth in the space around Earth, laying patterns of orbital mines and weapon platforms, there were even a handful of battleship-sized fortresses being constructed as well.

Hradetsky frowned slightly as he studied his own datapad. "If we need to, sir, but the fleet's destroyer screen is still weak. We're waiting on those six destroyers from Entrica. They'd delayed by about two weeks thanks to some electronics problems they've been having."

The Admiral nodded and looked to Captain Tyler for her opinion. Tyler shrugged slightly. "Of course, we'd be better with a full strength screen but we've got enough to do the job for two weeks at least. I see no reason to delay our departure, the destroyers can join us on station."

Kent smiled at Hradetsky who was cautious by nature and by job description. "I believe the Captain is right, Vladimir, we can manage without those destroyers for a while. Send out the recall orders. Third Fleet leaves in three days."  
  


**23:53 ZULU  
Stargate Facility, Spearhead**

CHEVRON SEVEN, ENCODED AND LOCKED!

SHA-CHUNK!!

WHHRRR-FA-WOOOSH!!

As the Stargate exploded into the life, few were actually watching the spectacle in the Gate Facility. The soldiers of SG-Alpha were focussed on the technicians that were readying three drone aircraft and the Paveway wormhole attack system. Less than thirty seconds after the wormhole formed, the first drone launched.

Colonel Rachel Bannon walked into the Gate Facility, pulling her hair tightly back into a ponytail, a scowl on her catwalk model features as her troops stiffened to attention. Nobody messed with the 'Old Lady' when she was in a mood or she'd use your guts for gun grease. Master Sergeant Robert Powell walked slightly behind her, holding her helmet while she finished getting ready. She had just received word that her request to mount an offensive ground assault against Gryphon had been denied 'pending Fleet expansion'. While the Fleet had trouble finding its ass on a good day, people she knew were fighting a desperate battle against overwhelming odds six thousand light years away. She hadn't worked her way up from a second lieutenant in SG-Alpha to being its commanding officer, only to watch her friends, her family go off to fight the important battles without her.

She saw the smoke trail of the just departed drone dissipate thanks to the room's air blowers and grabbing her helmet from her trusted sergeant, she looked up towards the wall screen in front of the Stargate.

It was split into two segments, one was the feed from the drone that currently showed static and the other showed the control centre of Spearhead that was actually situated at the main base almost two kilometres away. Brigadier General Samantha Carter was sat in a chair next to the Tech. Sgt at the main console. In the background, Bannon could see Colonel Travis of SG-Beta and Colonel Parmesh of SG-Gamma in full combat gear.

The static cleared from the drone's transmission and a bird's eye view of the area surrounding the Stargate appeared. Almost immediately, the Paveway system stirred to life, the servos whining as the guns started to track the targets designated by the tactical officer in the command centre.

The chain guns burst to life, a steady 'buurrppp' issued forth even as a thousand rounds a minute spewed into the wormhole, travelled a hundred light years and arrived at the other end, only to cut a squad of Jaffa in half. The video feed showed a Scorpion assault vehicle move into view, aiming itself at the Stargate even as it tried to position itself out of the wormhole's field of fire.

In the command centre, the tactical officer designated the Scorpion and pressed a series of commands into his console. Two AGM-64 'Maverick' anti-tank missiles were immediately lowered in front of the Stargate and the first one fired, disappearing into the wormhole immediately. The second missile fired barely a second after the first one had left. The troops of SG-Alpha watched the video feed intently as the first missile screamed out of the wormhole at the other end and arced up into the sky, carving a graceful loop in the sky. The second missile appeared at the other end of the wormhole in a cloud of exhaust and followed closely on the first missile's heels as it aimed itself at the Scorpion.

A growl of satisfaction rippled among the troops as the first Maverick slammed into the Scorpion, dropping its shields and scorching the armour. The second missile flew in unopposed and ripped the Scorpion apart.

"Colonel Bannon?"

Rachel Bannon looked across the screen at the feed from the Command Centre.

"Are you and your people ready to go, Colonel?" Carter asked tensely for despite the successful start, she knew too well what a meat grinder they were going off to attack, even as Paveway finished off the last of the Jaffa guarding the Gate at the other end.

Colonel Bannon nodded tightly. She was eager to start taking her frustration out on some Jaffa. "Turn us loose, ma'am."

Carter suppressed a small smile and announced formally, "SG-Alpha, you have a 'go'. Good luck, and good hunting."

Bannon saluted sharply and then turned round to face her troops. "Alright, people, our exit point's clear, let's move out before they have time to recover!"

Feet pounded as SG-Alpha charged up the ramp and ran into the Stargate to attack one of Bast's fleet supply bases.  
  


* * * * * *

Carter sighed as the Stargate shut down after the last SG-Alpha trooper left and turned to the communication link to SGC-East in Khabarovsk, back on Earth. "They're all yours now, Sulakov. Keep an eye on them."

The ex-SG Assault team trooper and CO of SGC-East nodded in acknowledgement. "We'll take care of them, Spearhead. SGC-East, out."

Turning from the communication console, Carter faced her other two Assault team leaders. "Colonel Travis, you're up next. Get your people into position."

Colonel Travis grinned in anticipation and gave a quick salute before he headed out of the command centre. Colonel Parmesh, who still remained, shook his head in mild amusement. "Now there goes a man with immense job satisfaction."

Carter nodded absently as she studied the strategic display of the Galaxy that currently filled the wall screen. Three planets were highlighted in red with one, PX-742, pulsed steadily. That was the planet currently under attack by SG-Alpha. Jack had come up with a plan to tie up the rest of Bast's reserve forces in the hope of forcing her to abort any planned attack upon Earth or any other planet. Spearhead's current role in the plan was a three-pronged raid into her deep territories, hitting key installations, not to destroy them specifically but to strip them of their Jaffa complements, forcing her to replace them.

Parmesh watched the SG-Beta troopers move into the Gate Facility and position themselves for their attack. "Do you think this will work, ma'am?"

"I honestly don't know, Colonel." Carter replied. "O'Neill's plan is sound but one, we aren't totally sure how large a reserve she has and two, she's smart and has never shown herself to be one to dance to another person's tune. She may ignore our efforts and hit Earth anyway."

The Colonel frowned and shook his head. "I'm just a grunt, ma'am, and I prefer a straight up fight to all this shadow play."

Carter winced and spitted the other man with a glare. "I'm not that old, Colonel, I still remember how to hold a gun."

His lips trembling with a suppressed smile, Parmesh assumed a parade ground stance, his eyes locked onto a point five centimetres above her head. "Of course, ma'am. I simply meant that your job is obviously a lot more complex than mine."

"Comes with star, Colonel, comes with the star." Carter replied, referring to her rank of Brigadier General. "Anyway, we can't afford to go toe-to-toe with Bast just yet but that day's getting closers and closer and I've got a little payback stored up for what they did to Cimmeria. Meanwhile, we'll conduct these hit and run attacks for a while and see if we can't stay alive until that day."

She turned to the Tech Sgt beside her and gestured to the video display of the Stargate. "Dial up the target world for SG-Beta, sergeant."  
  
  


**11:29 ZULU  
January 30th 2010  
Mothership 'Overseer', Toshan System, Separatist Territory of Lady Morte**

Lady Amun'sul sat on the command throne on the bridge of her Mothership and smiled in dark pleasure. Her reinforced fleet had surprised the three Hat'ak Motherships patrolling Lady Morte's borders and destroyed them utterly. As a bonus, due to the combination of surprise and the jamming technology Bast had finally developed, the Motherships were unable to warn any of Morte's other forces as to their imminent destruction.

Now, her current fleet of two Shal'kra class Motherships and twelve Hat'ak's had entered Lady Morte's home system unnoticed. The single Shal'kra and eight Hat'ak's in orbit of the fourth planet in the Toshan system were the system's only defenses and formidable though that small fleet might be, it wasn't in the same league as hers.

Lady Amun'sul turned to her First Prime, her eyes flashing with dangerous intent. "The fleet will advance."

The First Prime bowed deeply. "Yes, my Lady." He replied before turning to the other Jaffa on the bridge, giving more detailed commands for the fleet.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The 'Overseer' charged into the system at incredible speed, six Hat'ak's arrayed in a protective screen around the massive vessel. The other Shal'kra class vessel, the 'Kindjal', similarly surrounded by the other six Hat'ak's, rose upward on a wide curving course, heading above the system's plane of ecliptic intending to arc down upon the ships defending Toshan in a vertical flanking manoeuvre.

As soon as the Unionist ships entered the Toshan system proper, Lady Morte's sensors picked them and the alarms began to sound.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


"What is the meaning of this, Jaffa?" Lady Morte asked with gritted teeth. She had been enjoying her newest slave when the alarms had started to blare, her First Prime was nowhere to be found, forcing her to come directly to the bridge.

The Jaffa Second on the bridge silently cursed the First Prime for not being here, forcing him to report directly to his God. "Mm...My Lady, our sensors had detected two large forces of Union Mothership closing in on the planet."

Loosing a vile Egyptian curse, Lady Morte stalked over to her throne and sat down carefully, her eyes never leaving the tactical display showing the massive force bearing down upon her.

"Have all the ground based garrisons been alerted?" She asked quietly.

The Jaffa looked to another, who nodded firmly and he suppressed a visible sigh of relief. "They have, my Lady."

Nodding absently in response, her expression barely flickers as her First Prime finally arrived on the bridge.

He moved in front of her throne and dropped to one knee. "My deepest apologies, my Lady, for not being at my post for I was..."

The other Jaffa on the bridge never got to hear just what it was the First Prime had been doing for Lady Morte never took her eyes off the forlorn situation on the tactical display as she raised her hand adorned with a ribbon device and sent of pulse of intense energy into her First Prime, sending his smoking, shattered body across the bridge and slamming into the bulkhead where it slumped lifelessly to the floor.

She finally turned to face the Second who had been in charge of the bridge at the time of the alert. "You are now my First Prime, Kel'dan, and your first duty as such is to rid me of these attackers. I shall retire to my palace on Toshan and allow you to fight unencumbered by my presence among you."

The new First Prime bowed in acknowledgement and spun round to face the rest of the Jaffa after she had left the bridge. "Have all the ground-based udajeets, tel'tac's and al'kesh's launch and send them against the secondary force approaching the planet. Our fleet will intercept the enemies' primary force. Someone send a signal to the rest of the fleet and order them to return to Toshan immediately."

"But Sec...First Prime," One Jaffa Second spoke quietly as the others moved to implement their orders. "Our other ships are too far away, they'll never return in time."

First Prime Kel'dan glared at his now-subordinate friend. "I know, Pra'ten, but what choice do we have. With a little luck and the favour of our Gods, we'll hold them away from Toshan long enough for some of the fleet to arrive and save whatever remains."  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Lady Amun'sul admired the tactical thinking of whoever was in command over there. It was undoubtedly someone other than Lady Morte or her First Prime for Amun'sul had known them both for a long time and they was more hedonists and bullies than warriors and had held out against her forces only through the sheer number of ships available to her. No, the one now in charge over there was smart and dangerous.

The cloud of fighters and bombers that had launched from the planet was large enough to slow her flanking force, despite their lack of capital ships and their main defence fleet that was sticking together and moving out to meet her force, outnumbered the 'Overseer' and her escorts by a big enough margin to make victory less than assured, forcing her to recall her secondary force from its flanking attack upon the planet.

Which is why she had held Lady Asphe'kaht in reserve. Her squadron, consisting of one Shal'kra-class Mothership, the 'Victorious', and five Hat'ak's waited just outside the system, ready to hyperspace in on receiving her signal.

"We're within weapons range." Her First Prime announced from his post at the command console at the front of the bridge.

"Then by all means, open fire." She replied calmly.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Orange bursts of plasma filled the space between the two fleets of Motherships in storm of weapons fire that battered shields down, melted armour and ripped open compartments to space, sending atmosphere and Jaffa alike spilling out into the void.

Lady Amun'sul's fleet tried to maneuver wide of Lady Morte's defence fleet but they easily kept position between them and the planet. She frowned as the Union ships, instead of the widely spread fire hitting her entire group of ship she expected, focused their weapons fire on one or two of her ships at a time, battering them to uselessness and moving on to the next. It was no more than her fleet was already doing to the enemy but she hadn't expected it and she thanked the universe that the new, 'competent' commander over there hadn't been promoted a lot sooner.

Udajeets buzzed around the entire battlefield like flies, stinging the capital ships and hunting each other down in numerous dogfights, small explosions punctuating each short battle and there were a great many small explosions filling the void around the massive, golden Motherships.

On Lady Morte's flagship, her new First Prime that was causing Amun'sul so much trouble stared intently at the plot as the bridge shook under the blasts hammering at the flagship. His fleet was taking a pounding but the opposing Motherships - his sensor officer had confirmed that they belonged to Amun'sul - were receiving an even harder battering at the hands of his vessels.

That secondary force should have tried to trap us between them, he thought darkly. Even now, as we overwhelm the primary force, it still fights against the fighters and bombers and makes no move to help its troubled fleet elements out. They can't be that arrogant, even though we're somehow being jammed and can't get a signal out to the rest of the fleet. Something's wrong.

"Are we picking up anything else on sensors?" He called out, his entire body tensed with the expectation of something bad about to happen.

The sensor operator opened his mouth to reply in the negative when his console began to beep urgently for attention. "Massive increase in theta radiation, highly localized and increasing exponentially!"

"Where?" Kel'dan interrupted knowing full well what the radiation meant.

The sensor operator's reply caused an icy fist to squeeze upon his heart. "Dead astern!"  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


As the battle continued to rage between the forces of the two System Lords, the space behind the Separatist forces of Toshan seemed to twist tightly and then explode as Lady Asphe'kaht's forces came screaming out of hyperspace, their weapons blazing orange fire.

Lady Morte's already battered, streaming atmosphere and trailing wreckage, were totally surprised. Kel'dan tried to break away from this new threat in his rear but his vessels were too slow to react and too enmeshed with the primary group of Amun'sul's vessel as they began to fire once more with renewed vigour. His ships writhed and burned like moths caught in a flame. A new wave of udajeets swept outward from the ambushing force and tore into the much-reduced ranks of Kel'dan's fighters, hunting them down in packs, herding the few remaining small craft into crossfire's and annihilating them totally.

Within minutes, all but two of Kel'dan's Hat'ak's had been destroyed and his remaining two Motherships were barely recognisable as spaceships. Their golden hulls blackened, twisted and cratered, weapons silently and drifting with no engine power, their reactors having been shut down to prevent overloading. The Shal'kra flagship heaved as another volley of fire from the fresh fleet that had appeared behind them slammed into its remaining shields, overloading the generators and blowing fuses along half the ship. Amun'sul's force fired once more, the plasma blasts precisely targeted, taking out the remaining shield grid and weapons batteries. In less than a minute, the scorched and buckled Shal'kra-class Mothership was dark and adrift lifelessly.

Lady Amun'sul sat back in her throne with immense satisfaction as the enemy before her was finally defeated. Lady Morte had grown too over-confident and lax and was now beginning to pay the price. Lady Asphe'kaht and her fleet now moved quickly to support the secondary force in its fight against the udajeets and al'kesh's.

Soon Lady Morte's territories and Jaffa would renew their allegiance to me, finally allowing Bast to marshal enough forces to strike Earth down. Oh, yes, today was turning out to be a very good day indeed.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


"Report!" First Prime Kel'dan called out hoarsely as he pulled himself up from the floor of his shattered bridge. Most of the lighting was out and the environmental systems must be off-line for smoke filled the upper half of the bridge and showed no signs of dissipating. Bulkheads had collapsed and support girders had fallen in several places across the bridge. The few, remaining active consoles flickered errantly as the rest sparked heavily.

For a few seconds, no one answered his call and Kel'dan thought he was the only one left alive on the bridge when a groan emanated from behind the command console. His old friend, Pra'ten, hauled himself painfully upright; a nasty cut ran across the left side of his face. Shaking off his disorientation, he gingerly accessed the flickering command console.

"We're dead in the water. Everything's offline, even emergency life support, I've got minimal computer function and partial power to the escape pods. There should be enough to get at least few running of get us off this damned ship."

Kel'dan listened to the litany of damage without blinking and began to shake his head. "We're not going anywhere."

Pra'ten raised an eyebrow questioningly and Kel'dan smiled tightly. "Go if you want but badly damaged though this ship is, I'm not leaving them anything to salvage. It shouldn't be too hard to blow the reactor from here. I might even be able to take a couple of the enemy with me."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Pra'ten snorted in amusement. "The reactors barely stable enough as it is, you can sneeze hard and the damned thing will probably explode."

Kel'dan walked over and placed his right hand on Pra'ten's right shoulder. His friend stiffened but returned the gesture and they stood there, among the ruins of the bridge, studying each other for the last time. "Die well, old friend." Pra'ten growled out, his throat tight.

The First Prime smiled easily. "Look after Kel'len and the little ones, Pra'ten."

The other man nodded tightly and released him before turning quickly and heading out of the wreckage of the bridge, hoping beyond hope to find a functioning escape pod and see his wife and children again.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Lady Amun'sul was watching the bombardment of Lady Morte's palace on Toshan proceed apace when her First Prime grunted in mild surprise.

"My lady, the reactor onboard the enemy flagship has increased in power by fifty percent...and is still rising." He reported.

Amun'sul shifted her display to that of the enemy Shal'kra showing numerous escape pods jetting out of the crippled flagship. One of her Hat'ak's had moved up close to the larger vessel so as to commence salvage operations. Despite the heavy damage it had taken, there was still a lot of ship left. "Are they powering up their weapons...their engines?"

He First Prime shook his head. "I'm not reading the power going anywhere...my lady!" He called out. "The containment field is flickering, I think the reactor's going to blow!"

Amun'sul's eyes flashed in shock and anger. "Order all ships to pull clear! Get the 'Morning Star' out of there!"

Though the First Prime moved to communicate with the Hat'ak, its commander had already seen the danger and, with the unique abilities of the Mothership's reactionless engines, it immediately began to move directly away from the doomed Shal'kra with incredible speed.

Within seconds, it was over five kilometres away, which was enough to ensure its immediate survival, but after it had barely cleared eight kilometres, the reactor finally blew. The explosion was almost beyond comprehension, the safeguards which normally prevent such a massive eruption, even in the face of destruction by an enemy, were purposely disabled and the reactor was allowed to feed upon the ship before it exploded.

The tremendous shockwave swept outward in an intense spherical wave of force that slammed into the 'Morning Star', sending it tumbling end over end, dangerously depleting its shields and causing its own reactor to flutter nervously.

When the explosion finally faded away, there was nothing left of Lady Morte's massive flagship except a fairly intense collection of gas and remnant plasma that would mark the spot of the Mothership's demise for the next week.

The "Morning Star' continued to tumble helplessly but two other Hat'ak's were already manoeuvring to capture it before it could hit anything.

Sitting back in her throne, Lady Amun'sul shook her head once more. Yes, she was glad that the career of the new commander of Lady Morte had been brief. It was almost certain that it was he who had overloaded that reactor and it was a shame that she never would have had the chance to convince him to join her.

At least Lady Morte was now dead and the core of her forces crushed. With a little luck, she would be able to convince the remainder of Morte's fleet to serve under her now, greatly expanding her power base. She turned to her First Prime who was monitoring the ground assault on Toshan.

"Send a signal to Bast." She ordered. "Inform her of our victory over the Separatist forces of Toshan and that we shall remain here for a few days in order to secure the rest of Lady Morte's forces. We shall, however, arrive at Staging Point Alpha at the expected time."

As her First Prime nodded in acknowledge and began to compose the message to Sohag, she watched the 'Morning Star' regain control under the tractor beams of its sister ships, she sighed deeply. Yes, a great shame indeed.  
  
Continued in part 2   



	2. Part 2

  
  


**Chapter 3  
Hell Hath No Fury...**  
  
  


**18:58 ZULU  
February 5th 2010  
SGC(West), Cheyenne Mountain, Earth**

General O'Neill watched the clock in the Command Centre expectantly. As it flickered to '18:59 ZULU' he turned to Sgt Hiller, who was again on duty at the command console. "Sgt, bring the Iris to Level 1."

"Aye, sir." Sgt. Hiller replied. He typed a series of commands into his console and leaned to his right, placing his hand on the palm print scanner and entering his security code. The computer beeped recognition and the Iris shuddered slightly as its internal mechanisms flexed the centre of the Iris outward to its Level 1 setting.

About eight years ago, the SGC had come under direct attack after Apophis had managed to penetrate the original Iris with a specially developed acid compound. In response, the Scientific Support Division had come up with a more advanced Iris that could not only close up in front of a Stargate wormhole, preventing anything larger than a molecule from exiting yet still vulnerable to the acid, but also flex inward, activating the Stargate's internal safety systems and preventing a wormhole from being able to form at all.

The clock flickered once more, showing '19:00 ZULU' and the chevrons suddenly glowed with power, initiating a subspace field and allowing a wormhole to suddenly form. Though the Iris prevented the matter stream from exploding outward, the area behind the Stargate lit up with reflected light.

"We're receiving a GDO signal." Sgt. Hiller reported a moment later. "It's the SGC on Sintesia, sir."

Stood in his dress uniform, the rows of campaign awards thick on his chest, O'Neill nodded satisfactorily. Right on time. "Open the Iris and let them through."

As Sgt Hiller opened the Iris, O'Neill walked out of the command centre and down to the Gate room with his aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya in tow.

The soldiers defending the Gate room were filing out of the opposite entrance as O'Neill entered the Gate room. The Marine Honour guard was already in position, rifles at the ready, lining the bottom of the ramp.

The wormhole rippled suddenly and the hulking bear-like form of Admiral J'Thuk and petite form of Admiral Serena walked out of the quicksilver pool of light, an aide for each Admiral quickly following behind them.

The Stargate disengaged and the Marine Seargent at the head of the line came to an even stiffer attention than before. "Admiral J'Thuk, Sintesian Navy, arriving."

Admiral J'Thuk's snout stretched back in a smile which was very similar to a human's except much more ferocious looking. There was, however, no mistaking the amusement in those intelligent eyes as he strode down the ramp and held out a thick, three-fingered hand that O'Neill shook firmly, having been the one to teach the Admiral that particular human custom. O'Neill remembered with amusement how unsurprising J'Thuk had found it when O'Neill had relay the story behind the handshake, about how it was used between two men to show that they carried no weapons in their hands and that they came in peace.

Barely turning a hair at the sight of a grizzly bear in an Admiral's uniform, the Sergeant announced the next arrival with ease. "Admiral Serena, Polaris Navy, arriving."

As Admiral J"Thuk stepped aside, O'Neill greeted the diminutive woman in front of him with an old school grace no suspected him of having. The people of Polaris were elfin-like in appearance. All were light of build and short, the tallest Polarisian on record having reached a massive 4 feet, 11 inches. That, however, belied their fierceness on the field of combat. They may be small but they were mean and fast and pound for pound, he'd match them against anybody in the Galaxy.

"Welcome to Earth, once again." O'Neill began. "Admiral Patterson is already in the Vault, with Admiral Marakesh and a late addition to our meeting, Rath from Tok'ra Intelligence, so unless you need to refresh yourselves after your long trip...?"

Admiral Serena gave a very un-ladylike snort. "That razor sharp wit's getting a little dull there, Jack, wouldn't you say? I have a whetstone you can borrow if you'd like?"

O'Neill frowned as J'Thuk rumbled with laughter. "Hrrraaa, I guess you should have raised your shields first, Jack, before going on the offensive..."

Shaking his head with small but growing amusement, Jack began to walk out of the Gate room, towards the 'Vault'. "Tell me why we're allies again?"  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


The Vault was a large chamber filled with strategic displays centred upon a massive conference table. The tabletop itself doubled as an interactive display unit, allowing an overview of any imagery, tactical or strategic display or just plain data manipulation. The Vault was used, not only by the various Fleet commanders for large-scale operational planning but by the Alliance Military Command, who were, with the addition of the Tok'ra, Rath, all in the room now.

As Colonel Krupskaya directed their various aides to seats around the edge of the room, O'Neill moved to the closest chair at the table and sat down. Admiral Serena sat down next to him as Admiral J'Thuk moved along several seats, trying to find space to fit his massive bulk. Admiral Patterson was already seated on the opposite side of the table, deep in discussion with Admiral Marakesh. Rath was stood near a console, idly studying the data contained in the base computer available to access by someone with medium level access like himself.

O'Neill ignored him for the moment since it became apparent he didn't want to sit down immediately. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We weren't due for another strategy session for at least another three weeks but recent developments have forced us to bring that meeting forward."

J'Thuk leaned forward gingerly, not wanting to crush the chair beneath him with his bulk. "Not a problem, Jack, but I'll admit to being more than a little curious about what's going on."

O'Neill turned his head to face Rath who suddenly found himself under the attention of practically the entire room. Sniffing slightly and in that particularly arrogant, Tok'ra way, Rath moved towards the table, evenly away from any of the others and sat down.

"Two day's ago, Tok'ra Intelligence learned of a massive offensive launched by one of Bast's trusted lieutenants, Lady Amun'sul. Amun'sul has been fighting against the Separatist System Lord Lady Morte for a long time and now with the help of another Unionist, Lady Asphe'kaht, Amun'sul managed to achieve total surprise and annihilated almost 50% of Lady Morte's fleet. Around 35% of the remainder of her fleet went over to Amun'sul, the rest ran straight to Lord Yu."

Everyone at the table, with the exception of O'Neill who had already heard the report, looked at each other anxiously. Admiral Serena was the first one to speak up. "How did she manage to achieve total surprise? Surely Lady Morte had picket vessels patrolling her borders?"

Rath shrugged. "There were considerable patrols in place but we have no clue as to how she achieved their destruction other than overwhelming firepower and total surprise. The only thing we know is that Lady Morte wasn't the most able leader when it came to fighting. It is very likely she had let her guard down and as a result, her security was lax."

Admiral Marakesh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "This changes the strategic situation immensely."

"Understatement." J'Thuk grunted in reply as he tapped the surface of the table, bringing up a representation of a keyboard. His massive but surprisingly dexterous, paw-like hands began to input commands into the interface rapidly. The rest of the surface of the table changed from a display of polished wood to an ultra high resolution display of the Galaxy. A box appeared in a small section of the spiral arm near the Core and expanded, filling the entire table with the enlarged area of space. Coloured areas began to appear, delineating the various territories. A small section flashed red and faded away, merging with a nearby territory, expanding by more than double the size. "By eliminating Morte, Bast has gained additional resources and has also shortened her front line against the Separatists considerably."

"Yu's probably pissed." Admiral Serena added grimly and then looked up at O'Neill. "All your recent work with Spearhead on spreading Bast's forces even thinner has been for nought, General. She's now got enough ships to hit Earth. Hard."

O'Neill called up his own tabletop display interface and brought up the new estimate of Bast's available reserves. The numbers made him wince. "Admiral Patterson?"

The Admiral of the Fleet had been listening to his fleet commanders hash the problem out silently, giving himself time to try and come up with a solution. "It's a bloody mess, sir." Patterson replied formally. "By our own estimates, and they're likely to be low, Bast will probably hit us with as many as six Shal'kra's and almost twenty Hat'ak's and you can lay bloody good odds she'll bring the 'War Hammer' along with her."

Everybody winced at the mention of Bast's Dhan'hak Class Command-ship. At over 6km in diameter, only the most powerful of System Lords could afford to build, crew and maintain one. Tok'ra Intelligence only knew of seven that had ever been built; Bast's 'War Hammer', the 'Dragon's Breath' belonging to Yu and another three of the monstrous vessels that belonged to other Separatists. Then there was the 'Dhan'hak' that belonged to Ra, which was destroyed by the naquada-enriched nuclear weapon transported on board by O'Neill, vaporising Ra and the elite of his Jaffa. The last one belonged to Apophis, which was also destroyed by O'Neill and SG-1 before Spearhead was formed when adrift and out of control, it crashed into Sokar's fortress planet.

After letting everyone absorb his statement, Patterson resumed his analysis quietly. "With the kind of force she can now bring to bear, I cannot guarantee a successful defense of Earth without every ship we have in the Alliance. Even then..."

O'Neill closed his eyes in the ensuing silence. Only the sound of the various technicians manipulating their consoles could be heard in the Vault as the General tried to fight back the despair that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Will there be any objections from your governments if we requisition every ship that can fight from your various navies?" O'Neill finally asked quietly, addressing Marakesh, J'Thuk and Serena.

They glanced at one another and it was J'Thuk that answered first. "Speaking as head of the Sintesian Navy, no. They'll be some noise from certain elements in our respective governments, no doubt, but we owe Earth a lot. You're the key to this Alliance and if Earth falls, the Alliance will be crippled. Maybe fatally so." The Admiral's bear-like features frowned, his tufted ears twitching with tension.

Admiral Serena grimaced as a thought occurred to her. "No doubt our governments will want re-assurance that Bast intends to attack Earth for if the Alliance Navy sits in this system while Bast takes out Sintesia, Polaris or Entrica, the psychological damage to the Alliance will be catastrophic."

As she finished Admiral Marakesh looked around the table and sighed deeply. "Regardless, we all know that Bast sees Earth as a cornerstone of the Alliance and its primary driving force. Maybe that's not as true as it was in the beginning but we can't take the chance of losing your world." The olive-skinned, barrel-chested Admiral stiffened in his chair. "We will send the orders out as soon as we return home. Everything we have shall be sent to Earth's defence."

O'Neill nodded gratefully. "Thank you, all. Co-ordinate with Admiral Patterson, he'll integrate whatever fighting ships you can scrape together into our defence plan. I have to leave now, I need to notify my government and prepare the rest of the world for the biggest wake-up call it's ever had."

As O'Neill stood up from the table, the other Admiral's quickly rose to their feet in an unexpected gesture of respect. O'Neill, deeply moved, tried but couldn't smile past the tightness in his throat and tried convey his thanks by meeting the gaze of his commanders.

He strode out of the Vault, head high and back straight, a newfound sense of strength filling him, pushing back hard at the despair that clouded his horizon like a storm. Without a word, his aide Colonel Krupskaya caught up with him and followed closely on his heels.

"Kathy..." He asked expectantly.

His long time aide smiled fondly at the man who had stood between Earth and eternal slavery from day one. "I've contacted Greenwich. The notifications are going out now. The emergency meeting of the World Council is set for 24:00 ZULU. The Council whip anticipates a full house. I also took the liberty of informing Major Sanchez to begin preparations for activation of 'Insurance Policy' within the next eight hours."

A small smile broke O'Neill's countenance. "You do good work, Kathy." She nodded seriously in reply, as he turned grim. "Now get me to the Ring, fast. We need the world's armed forces to make ready for war."  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


**23:42 ZULU  
Emergency Meeting, United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England**

Russian Premier and Chairwoman of the World Council, Iliana Kutsov, suppressed a yawn and smiled in greeting as the Malaysian, Australian and South African heads of state walked into the Council Chambers and then began to make their way to their respective seats, bringing the room to full capacity with all 140-odd heads of state present. Looking at the clock, she realized everybody had arrived early. Mentally shrugging the idle thought off, she banged her gavel twice, giving half the room a welcome wake-up jolt.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you all for coming to this emergency meeting of the Council. I wish only to remind you that this is now an Alpha-level briefing and as such, is not subject to discussion among people below Alpha-level clearance."

A few nods of impatience came from among the council members and smiling slightly, she looked toward O'Neill who stood, still in full dress uniform, to one side of the room. "General O'Neill..." She called out, gesturing to center of the floor.

O'Neill nodded tightly and walked forward. Unobtrusively, Colonel Krupskaya dimmed the lights and activated the wall screen panels.

"Council members, approximately six hours ago, we learned of a battle between the Goa'uld Union and the Separatists that resulted in a Union victory. That Union victory has changed the strategic situation drastically. By our estimates, Bast has now managed to free up enough ships and manpower to allow her to make a devastating strike on one of the 'Forge Worlds' of the Alliance."

President Kinsey suppressed a groan and stood up, automatically garnering the attention of everyone. "What you mean, General, is that she coming here, to Earth, earlier than you anticipated with more ships than you anticipated."

O'Neill purposely unclenched his fists and tired to remain calm. "Close, Mr. President. They are indeed coming a lot sooner than anticipated but we, the entire Alliance military command, are still confident of a successful defense." He noticed the disbelieving looks and pushed forward. "It won't easy and it certainly won't be bloodless but we are recalling every ship in the Alliance and we honestly believe we stand a good chance of victory."

"Like at Gryphon?" The Chinese Premier Tang Sun called out.

O'Neill shook his head. "A superficially similar situation that in reality is very different. We have planetary defense systems in every major city on the planet in addition to orbital mines and weapon platforms and with a little luck, we will have the entire Navy, all three Fleets, in addition to Planetary Defence Fighter Corp defending Earth. No, sir, the forces are more even than mere numbers suggest."

The German Chancellor, Hans Broder, leaned forward intently. "Do you intend to activate 'Insurance Policy'?"

Hesitating, O'Neill winced internally. His answer could be implied as a lack of confidence in the situation but there was no other choice. "I am."

The Council Chamber broke into murmurs of disquiet.

"Regardless of what you believe, 'Insurance Policy' is exactly that, a policy against the opinion of the military that we can successfully defend Earth." O'Neill reaffirmed. Some of the politico's didn't look convinced but O'Neill pushed forward regardless. "Evacuation of all 'Policy' personnel and material to the Alpha and Beta sites will begin as soon as you provide me with your approval, as well as full activation of your various country's armed forces as we go to a Global Defcon 1."

A sober Council greeted this remark and it was Premier Kutsov who spoke into the silence that followed. "I think we can all agree that the General is doing everything necessary and that we have full confidence in him and his people, as well as all our men and women around the world that are going to fight and die in our defence."

"Hear, hear." Several Council members called out simultaneously.

Without warning, the Prime Minister of New Zealand, with a sober expression, stood as a gesture of respect. Another head of state, this time from Bulgaria stood up a second later, followed quickly by Premier Kutsov. Slowly at first, but then in small groups, the Council members began to stand in silence. In less than a minute the entire Chamber stood silently, their determination filling the air and their respect for O'Neill shone clearly.

Dumbstruck and not entirely sure how to respond to the people he had casually dismissed as annoyances so often, he assumed a stiff parade stance and brought his right hand up in a perfect parade ground salute. Silence reigned for several seconds and then, without a word, he spun round on his heel and strode out of the Council Chamber, ready for war.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**05:11 ZULU  
February 6th 2010  
Third Fleet, Adenan Territory**  
  


A sea of twisted and melted wreckage drifted across space, some of it recognizably from Earth Navy vessels, most was clearly Goa'uld in origin. It was the remnants of a battle, the end result of four days of pursuit, in a seemingly endless pursuit across the stars, culminating in an hour's worth of incredible violence. Amid the wreckage, the battered but relatively intact Third Fleet floated victorious. Repair drones flitted across the hull of the massive warships, replacing armour and components even as damage control teams moved ceaselessly amid the tangled internal compartments, trying to restore some hull integrity to the areas of the ships open to space.

In the Command Center of the ENS _Ark_ _Royal_, flagship of the Third Fleet, Admiral Kent leaned tiredly on the back of his chair as he studied visuals from the external cameras, purposely ignoring the personnel casualty reports sitting on his lap.

The scouts that O'Neill had asked to be sent into Adenan space had been tracking a Goa'uld task force for two days as it began an offensive to destroy the Adenan homeworld. The task force, consisting of six Hat'ak's had pushed deep, encountering light resistance and showing no signs of stopping. It was obvious the Adenan fleet had been caught out of position and it was exactly the situation O'Neill had anticipated and Kent had been waiting for.

He had ordered Third Fleet on a speed run to intercept the Goa'uld task force before it hit the Adenan homeworld.

The Jaffa commander had been as surprised as it was possible to be at the sight of Tau'ri ships come screaming out of hyperspace, their weapons already blazing white fire at his ships. Their ion cannons had been concentrated upon a single Hat'ak, which subsequently exploded in short order, jolting the Jaffa out of their collective shock. Their commander ordered the Motherships to evade and they had made an immediate jump away from the Tau'ri, towards a nebula, where they hoped to lose their pursuers.

Admiral Kent sighed as he recalled the days of tense waiting as he launched wave after wave of Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers into the nebula to flush their quarry out.

The Jaffa commander finally regained his nerve and tried to blast his way clear of Third Fleet but Admiral Kent had used his superior fighters and bombers ruthlessly. The Jaffa tried again and again to bring their battle-line together with Third Fleet for a close action with energy weapons where they were sure to win; Admiral Kent had other plans and kept the range open, sending the fighters and bombers in again and again, reducing their Death Glider complement and then taking out the heavy weapons of the Hat'ak's one after the other.

As soon as his analysts were sure that he had stripped the Motherships of the majority of their teeth, he had allowed the battle-lines to close and then proceeded to pound the Goa'uld Motherships into uselessness.

He had lost sixty-eight fighters, fourteen bombers and two destroyers but the Goa'uld had lost six Hat'ak's and over five hundred Death Gliders. It was a stunning victory that was shot in the arm for the morale of a fleet that had suffered the soul-destroying defeat at Gryphon.

Now all Admiral Kent wanted was some sleep.

As that thought brought a smile to his face, the communication officer cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, Admiral? We have an incoming signal from Earth. It's Admiral Patterson, sir."

Uh oh. "Pipe it through to my cabin, Lieutenant." Admiral Kent replied, walking swiftly out of the Command and Control center and heading toward his cabin, which was barely twenty meters down the hall. In less than a minute, Kent was sitting in front of his console and typing in his command authorization. The viewscreen blinked to life and Patterson's grim visage appeared.

"Kent." The Admiral greeted him quietly. "How are things on the front?"

The Admiral tried to suppress a grin and wasn't entirely successful, his pride in his people threatening to overflow and spill out in an uncontrollable outburst. Instead though, he settled for a casual shrug. "Not too shabby. I was about to shoot off a report, actually. We just destroyed six Hat'ak's in Adenan space, less than an hour ago. We're about to pull out before the Adenan's show up. Some of my people are taking bets as to whether they'll be grateful or just pissed."

The Admiral of the Fleet's grim countenance lightened slightly at the good news. "You'll leave enough evidence behind to point the action to us?"

"Not a problem." Admiral Kent assured him.

Nodding, Patterson took a deep breath. "That's good 'cause I'm issuing a recall. You're to return to Earth with all the speed you can muster."

Admiral Kent raised a questioning eyebrow and Patterson's expression went blank as he explained. "Current intelligence indicates that Bast is going to hit Earth sometime in the next two to three weeks. We need you here, fast."

Kent frowned deeply as he mentally recalled the navigation charts. "Admiral, even at maximum speed, Third Fleet is still fourteen days away from Earth!"

Patterson nodded, as if he'd expected that answer. "Then you'd better get started, Admiral. Patterson out."

Admiral Kent gazed into the now blank screen, his mind thinking furiously. His arm shot out and practically punched the communication console. "CIC." The voice of Captain Hradetsky, his Chief of Staff replied.

"This is Kent." The Admiral announced. "I want the fleet ready to make the jump to hyperspace in less than an hour. Recall our birds and get whatever repairs need doing to facilitate a safe jump done and done quickly. I'll be rejoining you shortly but get started immediately."

"Aye, sir!" Hradetsky's slightly perturbed voice replied before the Admiral closed the channel.

Dammit, Kent thought. This isn't like Gryphon all over again. This isn't like Gryphon at all. The minutes went by agonizingly as Admiral Kent silently tried to convince himself of that.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**February 11th 2010  
Command-ship 'War Hammer', Staging Point Alpha, Gryphon System**

Bast idly toyed with the controls built into her throne as she sat on the bridge of the 'War Hammer'. The Jaffa manning the bridge moved about their business with silent efficiency, though they had very little to do for the ship was essentially in standby mode and had been for four days while the fleet assembled. Normally she would have been bored to tears with all the waiting but for the fact that the staging point for the attack fleet was the Gryphon system, which meant that for the first time in far too long, she got to see...

"Hek'at?" She called out enquiringly as he strode silently onto the bridge with a puzzled look on his face.

They had spent the first two days of her arrival secluded in her quarters, ostensibly for a 'debriefing' but in reality, they were partaking in far more personal actions.

Hek'at moved over to the command console and manipulated the controls slightly. He finally turned to Bast and, keeping up the pretense of his 'unequal' status, he bowed deeply. "My Queen, two of my udajeet pilots report picking up a Tau'ri fighter in the outer system."

Bast looked at her First Prime and lover thoughtfully. "From your words, I'm to assume that they're no longer in contact with the fighter?"

Hek'at nodded. "Yes, my Queen. The Tau'ri fighter accelerated to almost twice the speed of our udajeets. The Tau'ri fighters have always been faster but..."

"...this is several levels above their usual top speed." Bast finished. Thinking hard about the amalgamation of native, Goa'uld and Asgard technology the Tau'ri utilize for their ships, she shook her head negatively. "I don't think you need to worry too much. I believe it was a scout version of their fighter. No doubt stripped of it weapons and armour, allowing it to attain immense speeds but giving no combat value whatsoever."

Hek'at grinned ruefully. "That is reassuring to hear, my Queen."

Bast smiled. "I understand it is a Tau'ri saying that it is just as dangerous to overestimate an opponent as it is to underestimate one."

"Wise and yet contradictory at the same time. How very Tau'ri." Hek'at replied. "Regardless, I thin it's safe to assume that the scout achieved a good long look at the buildup of forces in this system. No doubt they are beginning to wonder where we intend to point all this firepower."

Bast shook her head again. "I entertain no such illusions. The Tau'ri are not stupid. They must know that one of the major reasons I ordered to invasion of Gryphon was to secure a forward base with which to assault their homeworld from. The psychological effects to their Alliance were purely secondary."

Hek'at nodded. "I will intensify patrols. They may have gotten a look at the fleet as it stands now, but we are still awaiting Lady Amun'sul and Lady Asphe'kaht. I will sanitize the system ensuring that no prying eyes see our full strength. The Tau'ri estimates of our forces will be off by a considerable margin."

The fleet, when completely assembled, would consist of the Dhan'hak Commandship, 'War Hammer', eight Shal'kra heavy Motherships, eighteen Hat'ak medium Motherships and twelve Brel'keht light Motherships. Enough firepower to wipe a solar system clean of life in hours.

Smiling ferally, Bast sighed in satisfaction. "Hek'at, you have a devious mind."  
  
  
  


**Chapter 4  
The Battle for Sol...**

  
**T-minus 153h:47m:06s  
February 16th 2010  
United Earth Military Command, The Ring, Cheltenham, England**

General Stuart stood on the second level balcony and let loose a sigh of satisfaction as the massive ten by five meter wall screen in front of him flickered with the latest updates from around the world. A flattened map of the world currently dominated the wall screen, with smaller secondary windows around the edges of the display providing more detailed information. It was all controlled from the Master Console that sat down near the crew pits, receiving input from every computer in the Earth's Defense Net. Directly or indirectly, every military base, every planetary defense center, every aircraft, spacecraft, minefield, orbital weapon and sensor platform was tied into the Net in someway. The overwhelming mass of data from all those sources flowed constantly into the Command Center, here in the heart of England, where everything could be commanded. It had taken years of effort and thousands upon thousands of engineers and programmers but the Defense Net was finally online.

A small, polite cough from behind him pulled Stuart out of his thoughts and he turned to see Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson stood there, his patrician feature set into a wry grimace. "We've come a long way from trying to run a war using a map and a line of phones." The Englishman commented, gesturing towards the crew pits.

Stuart snorted softly, his craggy face turning back to admire the view. "Different age, same principles."

Patterson nodded silently in agreement and moved up next to the General, watching the officers and technicians in the crew pits gong about their business. "How do we look on the ground?" He asked after a moment.

"Pretty good, considering." Stuart replied. "If Bast and Hek'at think they stuck their hand into the lion's mouth trying to invade Gryphon, they ain't got a clue as to what they're stepping into if they do try to put troops dirtside on Earth." He glanced over at the Admiral. "Still, we're going to lose a lot of people if they do so I'd appreciate it if y'all over in Fleet could keep the Jaffa from landing in the first place?"

Eyes grim, Patterson nodded slowly. "To paraphrase Admiral Kent before the Battle of Gryphon, 'They'll know they were in a fight.'"

Stuart grinned at the unexpected bravado from the usually reserved Brit. "Any word from Kent?" He asked.

"I just got a message from him. He's on his way." Patterson replied even as one of the secondary windows on the wall screen display updated itself, displaying the status of Third Fleet for all to see. "He's due to arrive on the 20th."

A whistle of relief from the General met the Admiral's answer. "That puts him what? Two days ahead of Intelligence's estimate of Bast's fleet?"

"Aye." The Admiral of the Fleet responded. "He's cut it close but he'll be here in time for the fireworks. However as a precaution, I've ordered Second Fleet to take up position in the asteroid belt ahead of schedule, just in case Bast manages to squeeze some extra juice out of her hyperdrive and arrives early. First Fleet is, of course, maintaining position between Earth and Mars, ready to lead the Goa'uld fleet into the minefields."

"And Third Fleet?" Trying to remember what the particulars of the fleet's defense consisted of.

Patterson shrugged. "Third, when it arrives, will take up a lunar orbit, keeping the Moon between it and the least time area of approach from Gryphon."

"So when Bast arrives, with a little luck, she won't see Third Fleet until she hits the mine field." Stuart finished.

"That's the plan." Patterson confirmed. "Second Fleet, with its emphasis on battleships not carriers, will act as the heavy hitters, ready to jump in from the Belt, striking the Goa'uld fleet in a weak spot when an opportunity presents itself."

"Sounds simple and effective and just like every other military plan since day one, it'll dissolve into elephant snot as soon as you make contact with the enemy." Stuart commented. "Still...do you think you can actually win?"

Patterson sighed. "Maybe. We have lot of fighters and bombers available and I mean a lot. We've proved we can defeat a much heavier Goa'uld battle line if handled aggressively and at range. We got hit hard in Gryphon because Hek'at refused to allow himself to spread his force too thin. In an energy range engagement, we can't compete on a ton for ton basis; despite the leg up from all the alien technology we've reverse engineered. Hopefully, if Bast doesn't bring too many heavy ships, if the mine fields and orbital weapon platforms work as advertised and if we get a few lucky breaks go our way...we might win after all."

"A lot of 'if's'." The General replied.

"Quite." Patterson replied with classic British understatement.  
  
  
  
  


**T-minus 94h:12m:54s  
February 18th 2010  
Oval Office, The White House, Washington D.C, United States**

President Robert Kinsey rubbed his eyes tiredly as his staff filed out of the Oval Office, leaving him alone with a stack of reports.

His speakerphone buzzed sharply. "Mr. President, I have Prime Minister Grant on line one." His secretary announced.

Nodding to himself, he hauled his tired body out from behind his desk and moved to one of the seats on the sofa, in front of the fireplace. "Put her through to the main screen." He ordered.

In response, the picture that hung above the fireplace stirred slightly as the entire panel slid smoothly upwards into a recessed slot in the ceiling, revealing a large flat screen display that showed the United States Government crest. The screen flickered slightly, the golden eagle with its branch and arrows being replaced with crest of the United Kingdom. A small data bar at the bottom of the transmission header told him that is was a secure communication, direct from No.10 Downing St.

The equally tired looking face of Elizabeth Grant appeared, sat behind her desk, a heavy downpour of rain rattling against the window behind her. It was late evening over in England at moment, Kinsey realized absently, so she must be putting in as many hours as he was. They had known each other as heads of state for almost a decade now. Both had come to power about the same time, right at the beginning of the overt stages of the war with the Goa'uld. Kinsey felt his lips tighten briefly in a grin. They were both about due to retire as well, since they both had reached their term limits. Their relationship had started out frostily, despite whatever 'special relationship' Britain and America was supposed to have. They both had personalities that rubbed each other the wrong way but, to paraphrase a noted British Prime Minister, the prospect of hanging does concentrate one's mind wonderfully and the prolonged contact between the two had steadily worn away the rough edges to their relationship. Now they both respected each other's strengths and had come to rely on each other's counsel tremendously.

"Afternoon, Robert." Grant said, greeting him with a brief smile.

"You're up late, Elizabeth, the Opposition keeping you awake at nights?" Kinsey replied teasingly.

"Are you sure I can't just write a new law, giving me total and absolute control of the government?" She inquired tiredly. "The damn shadow cabinet has been playing the invasion angle for all its worth. Like I'm responsible for letting the invasion happen!"

Kinsey frowned as her words pushed something he'd buried to the surface. "Maybe you should blame me." He replied quietly, the teasing leached entirely from his tone of voice. Back when the SGC was finding its feet, Kinsey had tried to get the project shut down, fearing that the 'Gate was a Pandora's Box that could bear bad tidings for Earth. In a very real sense, he had been proven right, and in the dark, late at night, he often wondered if things would have come to this if he had been successful in shutting O'Neill down.

Elizabeth saw and heard the downswing of Kinsey's thoughts, correctly interpreting his self-flagellation and her eyes narrowed to slits and her voice became cold. "This has never been your fault, Robert, and it's only your arrogance that would even allow you to think that one man, even the President of the United States, could be responsible for the situation for which the Earth finds itself in at the moment."

Kinsey recoiled from the bite in her voice and then smiled ruefully, seeing that she had intentionally hit him verbally like that to knock him out of the funk he was falling into. "Message received and understood, Madame Prime Minister." He replied, taking a deep breath and bringing himself back on an even keel.

Elizabeth smiled and got down to the reason she called. "I spoke to Premier Kutsov today."

"And what did our Russian Chairwoman have to say about our current state of affairs?" He replied cautiously.

"She agreed with our proposal and has no objections to its implementation but she did note, and I quote, 'You'll be lucky if you will manage to get more than twenty percent of the population under a canopy shield by the time the Goa'uld arrive.'"

Kinsey nodded sourly. "She's right."

"But we still have to try." Elizabeth pleaded.

"And we will. And we'll keep setting up canopy shields and moving civilians right up until the time the Goa'uld come knocking on the door, meanwhile, I'm concerned about some of the analysis the Joint Chiefs have sent my way concerning our defenses here on the ground so to speak." Kinsey replied, picking up the report in question from the pile on the low table in front of him.

The Prime Minister arched an elegant eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific, Robert, I'm no mind reader."

Kinsey grimaced and read the serial number off the front of the hardcopy report, allowing her to call the digital version up on her console. "It's about the use of pre-Stargate military hardware against Goa'uld Death Gliders and Scorpion tanks."

Grant frowned as she read the précis of the report. "I had no idea things were that uneven."

Kinsey nodded in agreement. The report was an analysis of the effectiveness of the planes and tanks in use by the world's armed forces before they received any upgrades developed from alien technology. The American Abrams tank was a prime example. The M1A2, the world's best tank as of 2005, was easy meat for a platoon of Jaffa with staff weapons. Granted, that platoon had to get into range in the first place but infantry with the ability to reduce their premier tank to scrap was unsettling. The next-generation Abrams, the M1A4 looked almost exactly the same but was a completely different animal altogether. The British-invented Chobham armor was now laced with a trinium/beryllium/steel, room temperature, super-conducting skin that allowed it to shrug off even heavy energy cannon fire for a limited time. And the long barreled 120mm smoothbore gun had been replaced with a stubbier ion pulse cannon that was quickly becoming the basis of all Alliance offensive weaponry.

Unfortunately, only a regiment of these tanks existed at the moment, the technology for the armor barely off the R&D bench and horrendously expensive to boot.

The report basically stated that sending conventional tanks and aircraft against Goa'uld forces would be tantamount to suicide. They would get one, maybe two strikes in at most, before being totally wiped out by superior weaponry.

The only bright side, the report concluded, was that Earth was literally groaning under the weight of planes and tanks it could send against any invading force.

Some bright side, Kinsey thought darkly.

"This is disturbing, Robert. If Bast manages to put forces on the ground, and you know that they'll be heading for the Stargate installations in Colorado and Khabarovsk, we'll effectively be signing the death warrant of the pilots and tank crews we send against them! What else can we do?" She asked despairingly.

Kinsey closed his eyes, trying to shut out the horror unfolding before him. "Nothing, Elizabeth. Not a goddamned thing."  
  
  


**T-minus 67h:09m:11s  
February 19th 2010  
10AU above the Solar System ecliptic**

Earth and its military was understandably tense and every active sensor they possessed swept space for the first sign of the Goa'uld invasion fleet. Great strides though they had made, Earth technology still didn't possess the sensor strength and sensitivity to detect cloaked vessels at ranges further than a light minute.

And so, every patrol and sensor platform missed the cloaked vessel that sat patiently, far above their homeworld, watching their defensive preparations with interest.

For two weeks it had held its current position, watching elements of the Alliance fleet arrive from their duty stations around the other member worlds, all recalled for the desperate defense of a planet and the people that had stumbled blindly into a hostile Galaxy and, with incredible stubbornness, taken on all comers, without backing down or retreating. And not only had they actively fought against every threat to cross their path but they had also thrived.

The crew of the cloaked vessel sat patiently, considering that what the people of Earth had achieved, to plunge the Galaxy into chaos, had been inevitable from the moment they first stepped through the Stargate. Was there was something about the humans of Earth that brought about chaos and anarchy? Was it something about their planet?

It was unfair of course. Most of the other humans and aliens of other worlds also showed a tendency towards violence, revealing the barbarity of their respective civilizations...but, the crew considered, what had the so called enlightened species accomplished?

The Asgard, premier among the advanced races, tried to protect worlds from the predations of the Goa'uld but a Galaxy is a vast place and there are thousands of populated worlds out there that the Asgard had no knowledge of, worlds that the System Lords preyed upon freely. Worlds that were ignored by the advanced, privileged races, secure in their 'superiority' and the arrogance of a maturity that let them sleep at night while civilizations died under the thumb of the Goa'uld.

The Tau'ri.

They had begun to open eyes among the older races, eyes that had been blind to see the mistakes and tragedies hidden in their noble words and philosophies.

Decisions were going to be made soon, decisions that would change the Galaxy forever.

The crew of the cloaked vessel, computers filled with data on the Tau'ri defensive preparations, set a course for home, leave as quietly and as unnoticed as they had arrived.

They had a report to make.  
  
  
  
  


**T-minus 42h:34m:48s  
February 20th 2010  
ENS _Nimitz_, First Fleet, high orbit, Earth**

O'Neill stood on the bridge of the flag vessel of the First Fleet, the Ark-Royal Class carrier ENS _Nimitz_, with a smirk on his face. Beside him, Carter was explaining some obscure function of the ship's sensor array to Teal'c, who seemed interested but O'Neill knew that Teal'c could win Oscar's with his acting ability if he wanted to hide his true feelings. The big Jaffa stood silently, apparently absorbing Carter's every word.

He couldn't help it...O'Neill just had to laugh. It had been far too long since they had all been together at the same time, what with him at the SGC, Carter at Spearhead and Teal'c pretty much touring the Alliance with Sergeant Booth and their cadre of Jaffa combat instructors. With their 'busy' schedules, they'd only seen each other a handful of times since Daniel... O'Neill shook the thought off and resumed his basking in the glow of finally having his friends beside him and sternly ignoring the looks of awe that the bridge crew of the _Nimitz_ were surreptitiously bestowing upon the actual, real life SG-1 who stood in the same room as them, actually breathing the same air.

Even the captain of the _Nimitz_, Commodore Han, who really should know better, sat in his command chair reading status reports, blithely ignoring the byplay. But every so often, when he though no one was watching, he'd throw a glance at the three heroes of the SGC and smile, proud that they'd chose to be aboard his vessel for the rapidly approaching spectacle.

Earth's space navy had only existed for less than a decade and, experienced though the Navy personnel were, none currently felt they would ever get tired of seeing an Earth Fleet exit from hyperspace. Admiral Kent had notified the Defense Net of his arrival time and all spaceborne ships and personnel had spent the past hour slowing jockeying for the best view.

One of Commodore Han's officers approached his chair, a small grin on his face. "Sir, we're beginning to pick up a localized radiation wavefront."

Han nodded in acknowledgement and lifted himself out of his seat and stepped down off the small platform, joining the General, Brigadier Carter and Teal'c, who had overheard the report and were already moving towards the forward transparisteel window.

O'Neill gazed out at the stars, looking for the first sign of Admiral Kent's ships. The bridge crew had put aside all pretense of working and also stood staring out into space. It was, of course, Teal'c who first spotted the hyperspace distortion generated during transition between the two dimensions.

Space seemed to twist in upon itself and then explode outwards. With a flash of light, a squadron of destroyers arrived, followed quickly by a battleship.

"That's the _Shinano_..." Carter murmured to herself. O'Neill, for his part, grinned in approval as he noticed the combat formations Kent was apparently using, even though Earth was currently secure territory. Admiral Kent still took every opportunity to train his people up, O'Neill thought wryly.

Another dozen destroyers appeared, smoothly arranging themselves into two wings that spread to either side of their immediate arrival point, securing the fleet's flanks as another battleship appeared, finally followed by the huge bulk of the _Ark_ _Royal_, which, barely seconds after emerging from hyperspace, began to launch squadron after squadron of fighters and bombers.

Despite Earth looming in the background with its minefields and orbital weapon platforms and First Fleet in orbit, there was no doubt amongst anyone present who was currently in charge of this area of space at the moment. Third Fleet was the Navy's most experienced concentration of ships and crew and their arrival at Sol before Bast and her invasion force was a morale booster of immense proportions and their arrival maneuvers, intentional or not, definitely sent the message of what Third Fleet was about.

A console beeped in the background and one of the bridge crew bent over and silenced it, "Commodore, Admiral Kent is hailing you, sir."

"Put him through." Han replied easily.

"Greetings, Commodore Han." Kent's voice called out, filtered through the bridge speakers.

Han smiled ruefully. "Afternoon, Admiral, and if I may, that was one hell of an arrival. You have some seriously impressed people watching you right now."

The British Admiral's laughter filled the air. "It wasn't too showy then, Commodore?"

O'Neill took a step forward and inserted himself into the conversation. "I didn't think so, Admiral."

"General!" Kent replied in surprise. "I wasn't aware you'd be on board."

O'Neill shrugged, unable to stop the gesture even though the admiral wouldn't see it. "It was a last minute kind of thing, Admiral. A final inspection of the fleet before Bast arrives."

"Any change on her ETA since I last spoke with you?" Kent asked carefully.

"Not that I'm aware." O'Neill replied. "She should be here sometime in the next day or so."

"Enough time for me to go over my part in the defense plan." The Admiral added pointedly. "The defense plan's been considered too secure to transmit over interstellar channels and so I know very little except for the basic outlines that we're couriered to me."

O'Neill caught the unspoken message and looked over at the Commodore, who nodded and snapped his fingers at the communication technician. "We're sending you the updated plan now. I'll have Admiral Patterson send a team over to brief your Captains and their staffs."

"Excellent." Admiral Kent replied. "I'd best sign off then. I've got some preparing to do and not a lot of time to do it. Admiral Kent, out."

As the communication channel closed, Colonel Krupskaya stepped onto the bridge and made a beeline for O'Neill. "General? The SGC is getting a message from Spearhead. Colonel DeSoto wishes to speak with Brigadier Carter. Something about the SG-Assault teams protesting their orders to stay off-world during the upcoming fight."

"Crap." Carter cursed quietly. She'd issued the orders before she had 'Gated to Earth hoping that the troops at Spearhead might take it calmly.

O'Neill raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged in explanation. "We had to expect it. We're asking them to stay away from defending their families and their homes."

"I understand but we need to have a solid core of veteran soldier's off-world, along with the civilians at the Alpha and Beta sites, just in case." O'Neill replied.

"I know." Carter acknowledged. "I'd better get back. I'll need to calm them down. Somehow."

"Sic 'em on to some unsuspecting Union System Lord." Commodore Han suggested.

Carter shook her head. "Sounds good but it would probably be a bad idea. They'd be distracted by thoughts of the fighting here at home and a distracted SG team is a dead SG team."

Commodore Han winced and made a mental note to keep his ideas of ground-pounder tactics to himself in future. It really wasn't his forte.

O'Neill took a deep breath and then placed a hand on Han's shoulder. "Thanks for showing us your ship, Commodore, but we've got to be going."

"It's been a pleasure, sir." Han replied. "We'll give 'em hell."

"That's all I ask, Commodore..." O'Neill added as he, Carter and Teal'c headed towards the hatch. "...that's all I ask."  
  
  
  
  


**T-minus 02h:11m:39s  
February 22nd 2010  
Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer', 110 light years from Earth**

Wrapped in each others arms, Bast and Hek'at lay in bed, in her palatial quarters aboard the Commandship 'War Hammer' as is sped through hyperspace on its way to Earth. Together, they savored the presence of each other in the peace and quiet that would all too soon be shattered.

Hek'at stroked Bast's golden hair as his thoughts inevitably turned towards the future. "I wish we could remain like this forever."

Bast smiled lovingly, her head laid against his chest. "I have no objections to that plan."

"Ahh, but think of the chaos the Galaxy would fall into if you were not around to impose order upon it." Hek'at added.

Bast felt a wave of foreboding sweep through her body and raised her head and looked Hek'at in the eye. "The Galaxy can go to hell for all I care at the moment."

"That's just your current circumstances talking." Hek'at replied reprovingly. "You will feel different once you're on the bridge, amongst your servants and the 'rules' of Goa'uld civilization are restored once more."

Shaking her head, Bast traced a random outline on his sculpted chest, above the crossed opening of his pouch and the prim'ta within. "That's not entirely true. If you asked it of me, I would give it all up. We could leave the Tau'ri and the System Lords to their own devices. Just us two, you and I, we could take the 'War Hammer' and find a remote planet, maybe even leave the Galaxy altogether. Leave it all behind us."

Hek'at looked at his lover curiously. "We're a little over two hours from total victory over the Tau'ri and you'd consider abandoning the Union and heading off to parts unknown?"

"If you were at my side, I would." Bast confirmed.

Hek'at snorted with amusement, love and affection. "As much as that plan appeals to me, what say we crush the Tau'ri before we make any momentous decisions?"

Bast looked away for second, trying to dispel the foreboding that had filled her heart, only to face him once again with a loving smile on her face. "Alright, my First Prime, we'll do it your way."

Hek'at sighed in pleasure. "If only you could be that reasonable in other things as well."

Mock-punching him in the chest, she rolled on top of him, their bed sheets dropping away, revealing her nakedness in all her glory and Hek'at felt his breath catch in his throat.

"If we have two hours left, I suggest we spend that time as wisely as possible." Bast announced.

Stroking her cheek, Hek'at smiled. "I totally agree." He said, before he pulled her mouth down upon his.  
  
  
  
  
  


**T+ 00h:00m:01s  
Defense Net Command, The Ring, England, Earth**

General O'Neill, General Stuart and Lord Sir Admiral Patterson stood on the second level balcony of the command center and patiently watched the wall screen display flicker with sensor alerts. They had picked up a massive radiation wave front three minutes ago, heralding the arrival of a large number of ships.

"ALERT, ALERT, SYSTEM LORD MOTHERSHIPS HAVE ENTERED THE SOL SYSTEM NEAR MARS!" An anonymous speaker announced. "ALERT, MOTHERSHIPS HAVE PENETRATED THE SOL SYSTEM!"

The Operations officer stepped away from his bank of consoles and their attendant technicians and he looked up at O'Neill. "General, we're picking up twelve light Motherships, eighteen medium, eight heavy Motherships and a Commandship."

O'Neill winced along with every other person tied into the Defense Net. That was almost 50% again their worst-case projections.

The sensor display updated itself and the Ops officer frowned. "They appear to be forming into two groups, sir. One group, designating it as Group Alpha, consists of the 'War Hammer', two Shal'kra's and eight Hat'ak's. It appears to be holding position at the orbit of Mars. The second group, designated Group Beta, consists of six Shal'kra's, ten Hat'ak's and twelve Brel'keht's; they're heading directly for First Fleet."

Admiral Patterson made a small noise satisfaction. First Fleet was purposely out of position between Earth and Mars in order to get the Goa'uld fleet to do exactly what it was doing now, chasing them.

O'Neill felt the same satisfaction but it was tempered by the numbers in Group Beta bearing down on First Fleet. As he watched the display, the icons of First Fleet began to turn and head in-system, towards Earth.  
  
  
  
  


**ENS _Nimitz_, First Fleet**

Commodore Han suppressed the urge to launch his full complement of fighters from the _Nimitz_ as he watched the space around the Motherships blossom with hoards of Death Gliders.

"Fleet orders. Come to bearing 219, mark 010, flank speed." He ordered, putting First Fleet on a course for Earth.

'Aye, sir.' The helmsman replied.

Han stepped away from his chair and walked over to the quartermaster's table where she was charting the various ships tracks assiduously.

"How's it look, Chief?" Han asked quietly.

The Chief glanced over the numbers once more and sighed deeply. "Assuming Group Beta maintains their current speed, they'll reach weapons range five minutes before they hit the minefield."

Han's expression remained blank. That was cutting it too close. First Fleet could take some damage in those five minutes if they were unlucky. 'Thank you, chief, keep me notified if that estimate changes."

The Chief nodded and Han moved back to his chair. "Buckle in, people, things are about to get rough."  
  
  
  
  


**Flag CIC, ENS _Ark_ _Royal_, Third Fleet, low lunar orbit**

Admiral Kent watched the tactical repeater intently as First Fleet screamed towards Earth with half the Goa'uld Fleet on its heels.

Command Farrow, the Tactical Action Officer of the _Ark_ _Royal's_ Combat Information Center approached the Admiral and passed him a datapad. "First Fleet should enter the minefield at Sector 14-12 in eight minutes, the Goa'uld will hit it in eleven minutes. With any luck, First Fleet's IFF should prevent any mines from firing upon them but if any of their ships take battle damage..."

"How's their positioning look?" Kent asked as he read the raw data off the pad, pushing away concerns over a situation he had no control over.

Farrow shrugged slightly. "They right on First Fleet's heels, they should enter the minefield right behind them, putting them right in the middle of Sector 14-12's maximum density."

"And then we move out." Kent finished. Third Fleet's part in the plan was to hide behind the Moon, hopefully undetected, until the Goa'uld fleet hit the minefield. At that point, Third Fleet would emerge and hit their right flank while First would swing around and hit their left. With a little luck, the crossfire would deal out a massive amount of damage to the Motherships, forcing a retreat.

For the next five minutes, they watched First Fleet exchange fire in a running battle with Group Beta. The Goa'uld vessels were slowly closing the gap and their weapons fire was steadily becoming more and more accurate. Ion pulses and plasma blasts flew back and forth, shields collapsed, armour melted and shattered and people died but the ships of each side remained more or less intact as First Fleet approached the minefield in Sector 14-12.

Commander Farrow made a small, silent prayer as the lead destroyers entered the minefield.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The Jaffa Commander of the lead Shal'kra of 'Group Beta' smiled tightly as he watched the latest volley of plasma blasts slam into the fleeing Tau'ri vessels. Sensors showed severe shield damage to several Tau'ri ships and he felt mild surprise at the lack of courage and tactical skill the enemy commander was showing. In the past minute, his ships had suddenly huddled together into a fairly tight formation that made them easier targets for his ships long-range volleys.

The Jaffa manning the sensor station on the bridge frowned deeply as his console began reveal spurious sensor readings. At first he assumed it was jamming or even damage to the arrays but a quick check through the datalink to the other Motherships confirmed the same readings.

"Commander!" The Jaffa called out. "I'm picking a large number of very small energy signatures! They're starting to appear all around us...it's like nothing I've seen before..."

The Commander turned a puzzled look at the Jaffa. "How many?"

"Thousands, Commander."  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


When the Scientific Support Division became a global effort with the unveiling of the Stargate to the world at large, a large number of 'black' projects and unfeasible research fell into their laps from various science labs around the world. One of these projects was from the Chinese, one of their designs for a 'Star Wars' satellite that was in essence a nuclear, bomb-pumped, x-ray laser. It was something the Americans and Russians had fooled around with but had never got very far having what they termed 'throughput' problems. They could never seem to get enough of the nuclear blast channeled into the focusing array long enough to produce a coherent rod of light.

A bunch of Chinese scientists had managed to crack the problem almost a decade after everyone else had given up. Initially ecstatic, the SSD had set about designing an orbital defense system only to find that the x-ray lasers were practically useless against shield technology. The arrival of Jonas Quinn and his 'Naquadria' technology had changed all that and Naquadria bomb-pumped laser mines were relatively cheap if fairly complex devices. Munitions factories on Earth began to churn out as many of these mines that they could and O'Neill managed to gain approval to place them in orbit, thus providing a significant force multiplier.

General O'Neill watched the Goa'uld fleet blithely enter the minefield; unaware of the danger that was slowly encompassing them. Less than a minute passed before the Goa'uld ships began to show signs of hesitation. Their sensor pulses increased in strength ten-fold as the Jaffa Commander started to become aware of the magnitude of threat he faced.

O'Neill shook his head. "Gotcha."  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The first of five groups of mines detonated as one. From all directions, hundreds beams of naquada-harnessed energy speared into the Goa'uld ships, smashing shields and armour aside and tearing hulls open to the vacuum space.

The Jaffa Commander was no fool and, though he had never encountered a mine before, he realized quickly enough what he was dealing with, began to open fire on the still dormant mines, in addition to launching his udajeets with orders to hunt down the dormant mines as well.

The second wave of mines exploded and another wave of energy swept over his ships like a tidal wave. Three of the light, Brel'keht Motherships exploded under the pounding, sending debris flying in all directions.

Despite the searing energy, the Motherships spread out but still continued to push deeper into the minefield, ignoring First Fleet and heading towards Earth.  
  
  
  
  


**Flag CIC, ENS _Ark_ _Royal_**

In the CIC of the ENS _Ark_ _Royal_, the crew went about their jobs with calm precision as Admiral Kent stared intently at the tactical display. As the senior fleet commander in space, Kent had authority over First and Second fleet commanders as well as tactical control of the minefields and orbital weapon platforms. Though the Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson ran the Defense Net from the surface, it had been decided that final authority rested with the operational commander.

Meaning me, Kent thought wryly.

"They're taking damage, sir." The sensor operator announced.

Commander Farrow, the TAO, looked up from his own console in CIC towards the Admiral with a satisfied expression. "The third wave of mines has expended itself. The fourth wave is charging its capacitors...assigning targets."

The targeted fire from the minefield was being spread evenly among the enemy ships in order to damage as many of their vessels as possible but as Kent brought up a detailed sensor readout of the various Motherships taking fire, he realized that the distributed fire was causing superficial damage to all of the Motherships and not really hurting any of them.

"Commander Farrow?" The Admiral called out and the TAO looked back up at the Admiral before he started to pick out targets for the next wave of mines. "Focus your remaining mines upon those lead Shal'kra's. The Fleet can handle the Hat'ak's and Brel'keht's but I want those heavies put down now!"

Farrow nodded in understanding and turned to his system operators lining one side of the CIC. "You heard the Admiral." He said quietly. "Target the Shal'kra's."

On the tactical screens of the half-dozen weapon system operators, hundreds of weapons locks went from encompassing the enemy of nearly thirty ships to concentrating on just six.

"Mines locked." Farrow announced.

Kent's eyes narrowed. "Fire."  
  
  
  
  


**Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer', Group Alpha, Mars orbit**  


Hek'at slammed his fist into the bulkhead in frustration as the six lead Shal'kra's were sudden enveloped in flame. The remaining mines had fired as one and almost five hundred shafts of energy smashed into the heavily armoured vessels. Three exploded like miniature suns under the onslaught, their shield bubbles collapsing instantly, as if pricked by a needle. Their armor had held up for almost a full second but they had simply taken too many hits, in too many places from too many directions.

"Damn them to hell." Hek'at cursed.

Bast shook her head, her features grim as she watched the secondary group of ships reform with the loss of their heavy Motherships. "Inventive. We know the Tau'ri occasionally use mines during ground combat but it never occurred to me that such a thing could be used in space."

"The Tau'ri have evolved methods of killing themselves far beyond the capacity of the rest of their technology." Hek'at replied bitterly. "Now their fleet is coming around to engage our ships while they are still distracted by the damage from the mines!"

Bast remained calm, her mind studying the situation without emotion, and gestured at the tactical display. "Their performance is impressive so far but look, they must have used up all of their mines in that entire region of space near the planet. We now have a corridor in which to advance, free from the threat of those mines."

As Hek'at narrowed his eyes in understanding, he turned to one of his Jaffa Seconds. "Pre'tal, order the first wave to launch its udajeets and advance aggressively onwards, towards Earth. They are to bypass any orbital defenses and head directly for the Chappa'ai facilities on the surface. The second wave, with the 'War Hammer', will make to ready attack as soon as the first wave draws in the Tau'ri Fleet."

The Second nodded sharply in understanding and moved to send out the orders to the rest of the fleet.

"Hek'at?" Bast called out. "The Tau'ri are obviously working to a set plan. I suggest it not wise for us to play our part in that plan or allow them to play theirs. Power up the communication jamming device. Blanket the area with static on all Tau'ri frequencies."

Hek'at smiled. "I like it, though you realize the jamming device isn't as effective against their primitive radio communications system..."

Bast shrugged. "Regardless, radio has its own set of problems, time lag of transmission not being the least of them." She smiled in mild satisfaction. "No, I think this will upset their plans quite nicely."  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Wing Commander Heinreich Sternhoffen momentarily flexed his fingers to get the circulation going again as his Sabre flew in a combat space patrol pattern fifty kilometers above the ENS _Nimitz_ as the big flagship reversed its course and headed back towards the Goa'uld Motherships it had just led into the minefield. In formation around him flew the other one hundred and nineteen fighters of the 11th Tactical Wing, "The Barracudas". Outside of his canopy, Sternhoffen could just make out the rest of the First Fleet but, with the distances involved, it was impossible to see the Goa'uld Motherships caught in the crossfire of the minefield, even with the canopy heads up display painting a red box around the location of each Mothership.

His radio suddenly crackled to life. "Barracuda Lead, this is Flight Ops, over."

"Barracuda Lead, go." Sternhoffed replied curtly.

The tense but controlled voice of the Air Force Captain covering Flight Ops aboard the _Nimitz_ filled the cockpit, his voice radiating authority. "Barracuda Lead, Gold One has given us the green light. You are cleared for Plan Delta. Good luck."

Sternhoffen smiled tightly. 'Thanks, Flight. Lead, out." Gold One was Admiral Kent's call sign and it appeared that now that the mines had done their thing, it was the fleet's Fighter and Bomber Corp's turn. Plan Delta was simplicity itself. The Sabre squadrons would advance and engage the Death Gliders with the intention of opening a hole that the Bomber squadrons could streak through unopposed, allowing them to attack the Motherships with their heavy ordnance.

The entire fighter and bomber complement from the First and Third Fleets would make this initial strike, with the hundreds of planet-based fighters held in reserve.

"Squadron leaders, Delta, Delta, Delta!" Sternhoffen cried out as he gripped his side stick controller. Suppressing the urge to yell a war cry as slammed his throttles forward to their stops, his Sabre fighter screamed forward with terrifying speed. All around him, the Barracudas lit their afterburners and streaked forward, separating into their individual squadrons and spreading out, giving each other fighting room.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


The Jaffa pilots saw the two massive waves of Tau'ri fighter craft bearing down on them and their blood began to boil with the thrill of the upcoming battle. They reefed their udajeets into tight spirals, making random course changes in anticipation of the deadly missile salvos that would inevitably rain down upon them before the clouds of fighter met in close combat.  
  
  
  


**Defense Net Command Centre, Earth**

O'Neill and the rest of the DNCC watched the fighters from First and Third Fleet close on the Death Gliders. His people were outnumbered almost three to one but, thanks to the AFM, that only made the odds an equal proposition.

The tactical display flickered as the Defense Net calculated the new courses for First and Third Fleet. They appeared to be heading for the same point in space, on an intercept course to catch the remnants of Group Beta at the same time from two sides. The Shal'kra's of Group Beta would have made that fight an almost suicidal proposition but with them destroyed, thank to the mines, this fight too, became an almost equal proposition.  
  
  
  
  


**Flag CIC, ENS _Ark_ _Royal_**

"Admiral, I've lost all communication with the fighters!" Flight Ops announced urgently.

Admiral Kent's widened with unpleasant surprise and turned to the communications officer who was manipulating his console with desperate urgency. "It's Goa'uld jamming, sir, like what we've recently encountered in the Gryphon system. It's blanketing all the FTL communication channels!"

"What about radio?" Commander Farrow asked from across the CIC.

The communication officer frowned. "A fair amount of the standard radio freqs are being jammed but I've got enough channels clear at the moment to maintain minimal communications with the fleet but the time lag with make co-ordination a cast iron bitch, sir!"

Admiral Kent winced at the conclusion, ignoring the colourful language that it came in. Standard radio across interstellar distances would pose a serious problem for co-ordination between the various fleet positions. He turned to the tactical display and found that the communications officer had overlaid a series of circles showing the time it took for a signal to reach a specific distance. Fortunately Third Fleet only had a five second delay between sending and receiving, a pain to be sure but not catastrophic whereas Second Fleet would have to wait almost two hours before receiving a radio signal from Fleet Command.

And they were going to need Second Fleet to jump in a lot sooner than that!

Commander Farrow had been thinking furiously on a way past the jamming as suddenly he slapped his head with disgust. "Dammit, I should have thought of it immediately. We send a courier!"

Kent snorted in surprise and with self-disgust, immediately seeing the solution Farrow proposed and wondering why he hadn't saw it immediately. "Set it up!"  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Sternhoffen watched his last AFM streak across space and explode less than a hundred metres away from a wildly evading udajeet. The flechettes from the AFM's warhead, however, shot outwards in an expanding cone that caught the entire left wing of the udajeet, ripping it cleanly from the fuselage. The mortally wounded udajeet spun away, clearly out of control and the German fighter pilot immediately began to scan his area of space, looking for a new target.

They had just received a radio transmission from Flight Ops informing of the breakdown in Fleet communications and that in the event of total communication loss, he was to continue with the plan as was briefed before take-off and to use his initiative.

'Sounded like the set-up for the biggest screw-up in history, if you ask me', he thought.

His visor darkened as a nearby Sabre exploded under the fire of an udajeet that banked smoothly away, only to end up putting an incredible deflection shot into another Sabre at long range. The shots just managed to penetrate the fighter's shields and slammed into the engines, blowing one pod clean away and causing the other one to sputter and die. The fighter continued on its course, helpless and totally ballistic. The udajeet made a smooth victory roll and darted off in another direction.

Sternhoffen narrowed his eyes and headed after the Jaffa who was clearly an experience combat pilot. Sternhoffen's wingman said nothing over the radio as he fell back into a cover position, watching their 'six' as his flight leader went off to pick a fight.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


**Defense Net Command Centre, Earth**

General Stuart shook his head with something akin to respect as the first wave of Goa'uld ships charged straight and unwaveringly into the closing jaws of the First and Third Fleets. They the first wave had been savaged by the mines and had lost all its heavy Motherships, it still maintained its role as the aggressor and opened fire upon the battleships and destroyers of the Allied Navy.

Ion bolts and plasma blasts crisscrossed space and slammed into shields and in some cases, ripped into naked armour. Battle steel splintered and shattered as pure energy ripped atoms apart, atmosphere exploded from compartments that were torn open to space and crewman and Jaffa alike were cast out into the void.

He was a ground-pounder, like O'Neill, despite the Supreme Allied Commander's Air Force origins, and his mentally unequipped to bear the thought of working in a space environment where you couldn't even survive without a full life support system, be it a ship or a suit.

On the tactical display, ships on both sides began to wink out of existences as they annihilated each other and General Stuart, not a totally religious man, prayed silently for the souls of both sides.

Admiral Patterson studied the displays intently and watched the mounting damage with worry. Even as the two Earth Fleets closed in from either side, the Hat'ak's charged forward remorselessly as the lighter Motherships helped keep the Navy vessels back. They were dying as they did it, but they were achieving their goal of breaking through the Navy lines. "We're not going to be able to stop all those Motherships..." he murmured quietly. Shaking his head, he looked over at O'Neill. "We're going to get some leakers, Jack."

O'Neill nodded as he studied the displays for himself. "I figure about six or seven..." He said as way of a reply. He didn't notice the handful of looks that knowledgeable comment produced from the Navy personnel in the Command Centre.

Patterson simply shrugged. "That second wave is bearing down on us and Admiral Kent can't afford to send any ships to chase them down, not with that monster of a command ship heading his way!"

O'Neill sighed deeply. "Then we leave the Motherships for the ground defenses." He turned to General Stuart. "You'd better get your forces ready, General. Looks like there's gonna be a ground fight after all."

Stuart nodded soberly and gave a quick salute before dashing away from the upper balcony; the dirt-side defenses were run from a section on the ground floor of Defense Net command. The irony of the army commanders having to look up at the balcony towards the naval officers had amused the architects no end.

O'Neill and Patterson watched the other man go and then turned their attention back to the tactical display as the First and Third Fleets continued to slug it out.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * *

**ENS _Shinano_**

Captain Francine Renato grimaced as a Sintesian destroyer, the _Triumphant_ exploded under a concentrated volley from two Motherships that were charging down the right flank, trying to get past the Alliance Fleet.

"Helm, come right sixty degrees, flank speed!" She ordered. "Guns, full starboard broadside. Hostile 11 is your target! Go for its engines!"

The helm and gunnery officers acknowledged their orders and Renato could feel the ship shift under its sharp maneuvering. The sound of the ion batteries firing disappeared as they ceased their constant firing, allowing their capacitors to charge and giving the batteries time to orient themselves on their new target, ready for a full power broadside.

"The _Gorbachev_ and the _Stuart_ have conformed to our movements and are locked into the fire control net!" Commander Sinclair, the ship's XO announced.

The Captain simply nodded and watched the tactical display intently. The ship shook hard as the two Motherships saw the fleet squadron bank sharply behind them and began to fire at them. Most of the energy blasts went high though, as the _Shinano_ and her screen dropped rapidly into position.

"Fire!" Renato ordered.  
  


* * * * * * *  
  


The heavy batteries of the _Shinano_ fired as one and a wave of ion bolts flew towards the Mothership designated 'Hostile 11'. The ion bolts slammed into its shields and caused a generator to overload, an explosion erupting from of the side of the pyramid. The destroyer screen had opened fire less than a second later and their shots flew unopposed into the drive coils in the slate gray, secondary hull of the Mothership.

Explosions rippled across the hull of the Mothership as its engines sputtered and died. Its weapons, for the most part, remained operational, and the cannons that were able to bring themselves to bear on the _Shinano_ opened fire once again, their blasts more accurate now that the _Shinano_ had ceased its rapid maneuvers.

The plasma energy blasts streaked in and slammed across the starboard flank of the battleship. The _Shinano's_ shields held up initially but the second Mothership, 'Hostile 12' had also managed to lay a volley of shots on the lone battleship and the _Shinano_ writhed under the fire as the smaller destroyers evaded the heavy energy blasts.

A handful of blasts from Hostile 11 got through her shields and tore mercilessly into her Flight Deck, the few remaining fighters, the ammunition and fuel stores exploding under the intense energy.

The _Shinano_ bucked and heaved as its guts were ripped out, the entire section around the Flight Deck erupting, sending shattered fighters, crew and equipment out into the void.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Renato cursed heavily as she heaved herself up from behind the tactical display the explosion had thrown her over. "Damage report!"

Commander Sinclair was already at his station, compiling reports from across the ship. "Everything from deck eleven downwards in sections eight and nine are gone! There's nothing left. The Flight Deck, Ion Battery 5, they're all gone..."

"Are we still in business?" Renato asked hotly.

"Helm is good, ma'am." The helmsman replied.

"Except for Battery 5, I still have weapons!" The Gunnery officer announced.

"Damage control teams have secured the compartments open to space. Hull integrity is down but we have a pressure hull. Life support is go!" The DCC bridge officer called out.

"Engines are still on-line. We lost the secondary trunk lines when deck nineteen, section eight went up but the primary trunks are okay. We still have main power to all remaining areas of the ship! Structural integrity is down by forty percent but if we don't jump to hyperspace, she should hold together!" The Engineering officer finished.

Renato smiled grimly at her XO. "Hostile 12's broken through our lines but our orders are to leave any leakers for Earth to handle. Bring us to emergency flank, Commander, course 278 mark 305 and see if you can't scare us up some bomber support. We need to rejoin the rest of the fleet and see if we can that second wave from getting through."

Sinclair nodded in understanding. "Aye sir!"  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The _Shinano_ shot forward, trailing flame and wreckage but still mostly operational. The helmsman angled the battleship sharply downwards and curved underneath the drifting 'Hostile 11', using its massive bulk as cover against the mostly untouched 'Hostile 12'.

The engineless Mothership continued to exchange fire with the _Shinano_ with whatever cannons could orient upon the battleship as it swung below them but that soon ceased as an entire wing of Pegasus bombers screamed in began to plaster the weapon ports with ion and rail gun fire.

The _Shinano_ flew back towards the line unhindered as 'Hostile 11' lost its weapons one by as the bombers swarmed around it, stinging it with their cannons.

A squadron of Sabre fighters flew past, covering the bombers against the rapidly diminishing Death Glider threat as the Fleet turned its attention to the remnants of the first wave.  
  
  
  
  


**Flag CIC, ENS _Ark_ _Royal_**

Admiral Kent grimaced as he watched the _Shinano_ pull away from the escaping 'Hostile 12'. Despite the close action and almost suicidal efforts of the Navy, seven Hat'ak's, in various states of damage, had made it past the First and Third Fleets and were now heading directly for Earth. He wanted nothing more than to order his people into pursuit of the Motherships before they could attack the planet, and he would have were it not for the fresh and untouched group of eight Hat'ak's, three Shal'kra's and the Dhan'hak class Commandship that was closing in on his position.

"Order Commodore Han to regroup First Fleet. I want him to concentrate on the Hat'ak's. Third Fleet will take the Shal'kra's."

Commander Farrow passed the orders onto the communication officer and then turned back to the Admiral. "What about Second Fleet, sir?"

Kent shook his head as he watched the second wave of Motherships bear down upon him. "Launch the courier now but put him in a holding pattern. I want him ready to jump as soon as I give the order."

Farrow nodded and turned back to his station. The Motherships were less than five minutes out.  
  
  
  


**Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer'**

Hek'at leaned upon the main console and smiled grimly as he watched the Tau'ri vessels reform themselves into a blockade between his ships and the planet. The remaining Hat'ak's of the first wave were screaming in towards the planet, unopposed except for a handful of planetary defense cannons firing up from the surface.

The Tau'ri appeared to have made a grave mistake in spreading their available ion cannons around the planet. Yes, it ensured that they could hit a Mothership no matter where it approached from but it also meant that the fire wasn't concentrated enough to make any engagement decisive and although the Hat'ak's were taking a pounding, their shields were, for the most part, holding.

Back on Sohag, almost eighty Jaffa Legions were waiting to travel through the Chappa'ai, once they had secured control of the Tau'ri 'Stargate Command'.  
  
  


Continued in part 3 


	3. Part 3

  
  
  


**Defense Net Command Centre**

General Stuart stood amid his officers on the lower level of the command center as they watched the seven Hat'ak's enter the Earth's atmosphere above South Africa. Another wave of ion bolts rose up to meet them but the fire was noticeably sparse and although many of the bolts hit, the Motherships shields shook the blows off and kept on coming. As the entered deeper into the atmosphere, they began to duck under the line of sight of more of the cannons and the thus the defensive fire would only get sparser and sparser. The Motherships were also firing at anything and everything. Plasma blasts flew down towards the cities, many of which were covered with shields that absorbed the assault with equanimity but more cities were defenseless and plasma blasts began to slam into the city centers and explosions that rivaled small nukes erupted, devastating the buildings and killing thousands of civilians.

The gunnery officer in command of the defense cannons bit his lip with despair. His twenty-six cannons had been spread out to provide global coverage but that deployment had been the result of political interference. The politicians like to see those big, shiny weapons sat in the middle of their major cities, blind to the fact that their placement had diluted his effective firepower. He turned to look at the General and shook his head negatively.

Stuart sighed and looked at the technician sat at the tracking. "Where are they heading?"

The senior tracking chief manipulated his console and a series of arcing lines appeared on the display. "They seem to be splitting up. Three are heading for America; four are going for Eastern Russia."

"The Stargates." Stuart finished, unsurprised for they were obvious primary targets. He turned to the Defense Net gunnery officer. "They'll be heading for the Stargate facilities low but keep an eye on them and if you have a chance, plaster them with whatever fire you can bring to bear."

The officer nodded and Stuart strode over to the communication station. "Put me through to Colonel Thorn."

Seconds later, a gruff voice was heard over the speakers. "Thorn, go."

"Colonel Thorn, General Stuart. I assume you're watching the Defense Net feed and you know what's coming your way?" Stuart called out.

"Yeah, General, a whole pisspot full of Jaffa from the looks of things." Thorn replied, his voice grim. "Each of those birds carries five Legions, sir. If you could get rid of even one before they land..."

"We'll try, Colonel, but you and the Russians may as well prepare for fifteen thousand Jaffa heading your way." Stuart replied remorselessly.

"Roger that, sir." Colonel Thorn replied steadily.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**Flag CIC, ENS _Ark_ _Royal_**

Admiral Kent saw the devastation being wrought back on Earth and gripped the arms of his chair tightly, his heart filled with self-loathing at having to leave Earth to fend for itself. An alert from the tactical display brought his head up and he saw the three Shal'kra's move in front of the Dhan'hak Commandship. Seconds later, the Hat'ak's moved in front of the Shal'kra's, the entire group of Motherships assuming a spear-like formation, heading directly for the gap between the First and Third Fleets. Clouds of Death Gliders began to appear from the bowels of the Motherships and began to circle around the body of the spear, making it look for all the world like some oversized drill bit.

Almost snarling, Kent hauled himself out of his chair and moved up to the tactical display. "I want Second Fleet to jump in to this point, immediately!" He ordered, designating an area of space beneath the charging Motherships. "All ships, engage your targets!"

Commander Farrow fairly leapt towards the Flight Ops officer and gave the signal.

Outside the _Ark_ _Royal_, the courier/scout Sabre received the orders and firewalled his throttles to their stops. The Sabre screamed forward, getting clear of the carrier before its hyperdrive engaged. Space twisted and bent and the fighter disappeared.

The battleships and destroyers of the First and Third Fleets charged forward and curved in on the unorthodox formation of Motherships.

Ion bolts and plasma blasts flew back and forth and the battle was joined.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**SGC-East, Khabarovsk, Eastern Russia**

General Alexander Kuryakin pounded his fist in frustration as the four Motherships heading for the 'Bright Sword' facility pounded towns and cities as they passed at low altitude, under the protective umbrella of the defense cannons. On the data feed from the SGC in Cheyenne Mountain, he could see their Motherships were almost on top of them. "Are the base cannons ready?" He asked yet again.

"Yes, General." One of his officers replied with remarkable patience. The guns had been ready for almost a week. "They are powered and oriented on the mountain range. As soon as they Motherships rise to cross the range, at least three regional cannons and the three that guard this facility will paint them. The firing solution is locked into the Defense Net."

"And no spreading of fire!" Kuryakin ordered, yet again. "Focus on one Mothership with everything we have."

The gunnery officers glanced at the satellite images showing the shattered cities the Motherships had left in their wake. "Absolutely, General."  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


The four Motherships heading towards the Russian Stargate noticed the mountain range and gained some altitude to clear them. The Jaffa commanders on board knew that they would become visible to a handful of cannons but they wouldn't be enough to penetrate their shields.

They were wrong. The cannons guarding the Stargate facilities in Russia and America had remained silent and powered down and thus, the Mothership commanders assumed that no cannons had been stationed there; a logical assumption in the face of the less than optimal deployment of cannons around the globe.

As the four pyramidal ships raised themselves above the Mountain range, no less than seven cannons suddenly had a target and the gunnery office in the Defense Net Command Centre bared his teeth in satisfaction as he selected the lead Mothership and pressed a button.

A volley of ion bolts erupted from the cannons and slammed into the lead Mothership from four directions. The shields collapsed immediately and the cluster of three cannons at the surface of the Bright Sword facility went to rapid fire and shot after shot slammed into base of the golden pyramid. Armour melted and ran as the concentrated fire drilled its way deep into the heart of the Mothership. In less than a minute, the fire had reached the reactor and the Mothership disappeared in a blinding, white explosion that rivaled a supernova.

The other three Motherships were smashed aside by the blast, one actually sliding into the peak of a mountain, its metal hull screeching in agony as it tore against the rock face. They quickly regained control though and the Motherships opened fire upon the base.

Plasma blast after plasma blast hit the shields of the base as the Motherships dived behind a large ridge at the base of the mountain range. The Jaffa commanders saw they were close enough and decided to land under the cover of the ridge and send the Legions across the surface in a ground assault. Once they had neutralized the cannons, the Motherships could move in closer for support.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


The personnel manning the command center in the Bright Sword facility were cheering wildly as the lead Mothership blew. Kuryakin barked at the center personnel to resume their posts as the base began to shake noticeably and a deep, pounding beat could be heard as the surviving Motherships opened fired upon the shield protecting the Bright Sword facility.

He pressed a button on control pad built into the arm of his chair. "All base personnel will prepare for combat. The 285th and 191st Motor Rifle divisions are on the surface but there are no guarantees they will be able to hold. Lock the base down!" He ordered.

All over the Russian facility, troops, technicians, engineers and scientists ran purposefully to their emergency stations as doors and bulkheads began to close and lock automatically.

The pounding stopped as the Motherships landed behind the Kresta Ridge, five kilometers south of the base.

The tanks, BMPs and infantry of the two Motor Rifle divisions looked up from their trenches after the final volley of plasma blasts washed over the still intact theatre shields protecting the facility. The Motherships were nowhere to be seen and one or two soldiers actually cheered thinking they had been driven off but they were soon slapped into quietness as their sergeants patiently explained that the alien vessels had simply landed out of sight and fifteen thousand Jaffa and their supporting Scorpions were about to come crawling over the scrub plains between the base and the ridge with the intent of capturing the Stargate and, oh, by the way, killing everyone between them and it.

The Russian soldiers gripped their rifles tighter and waited for the enemy to come.  
  


**SNS _Path_ _To_ _Freedom_, Second Fleet**

Admiral J'Thuk had been ready to disobey orders when communication was lost with rest of the Fleet but his Flight Ops officer had suggested that Admiral Kent would send a scout to give Second Fleet the word when necessary.

The Admiral of the bear-like Sintesians had smiled at his Flight Ops officer as a scout/courier had flashed into existence just outside the asteroid belt and had begun transmitting instructions over radio. Less than a minute later, Second Fleet had streamed out of its hiding place among the asteroid belt and had formed up ready for jump.

"Jump!" J'Thuk growled out and the female Sintesian at the helm practically slammed her hand down on the helm controls. The space around the fleet rippled and twisted as one after the other, the battleships and destroyers of Second Fleet leapt into hyperspace.

Everyone on the bridge watched their displays as the fleet crossed the relatively small gulf of interplanetary space quickly. Seconds passed like hours and after an eternity, the helm computer signaled its arrival. The swirl of hyperspace outside the view ports distorted and melted away to reveal ships ripping into each other with ion and plasma. Explosions filled the area around them as fighters won and lost their individual engagements.

Even as J'Thuk hauled himself out of his chair, targeting assignments flooded over the Fleet data-link from Admiral Kent. Second Fleet had arrived directly underneath the second wave of Goa'uld vessels.

The three battleships and eighteen destroyers of Second Fleet opened fire on the surprised Motherships a Shal'kra and two Hat'ak's exploded under the punishment.

The crew cheered but then it was Bast's turn and the Dhan'hak class Commandship rolled over, clearing its field of fire and unleashed its impressive firepower upon the ships of Second Fleet.

"Helm, evasive action, put us amongst the Motherships!" J'Thuk cried out as a battleship and five destroyers ceased to exist.

Second Fleet accelerated to full speed and charged upward, right into the formation of Shal'kra's and Hat'ak's. The maneuver allowed them to engage the Union vessels without exposing themselves to fire from that Commandship.

"All batteries, fire at will!"  
  
  


**Mothership 'Promise of Death', Colorado, United States**

The Jaffa Second Pha'tok, who was in command of the squadron of three Motherships, smiled ferally as he watched the aft monitors display the burning cities they had left in their wake as they had passed over the densely populated coastline, heading for the sparse interior.

They had taken light fire from a handful of cannons as they headed inland but they had not stuck around to fight and their damage had been light.

Now they were less than five minutes out from the Tau'ri base that was hidden under a mountain. Their Motherships sensors could still easily detect the Chappa'ai emanations and homed in unerringly down upon their target. They would land their Mothership directly upon the Tau'ri base, as had been done before, and overwhelm their defenses with sheer numbers.

That was exactly the method they had been trying to train out of the Jaffa codex but this was a particular tactical situation for which there was only one way to achieve you goal; to advance in the face of enemy fire and take your casualties while inflicting losses upon your numerically inferior opponent.

"Second, we're approaching the Tau'ri mountain base." A Jaffa reported.

"Ready weapons! I want no surprises!" He ordered firmly. They had listened to the reports from the other Mothership squadron that had penetrated the planet's atmosphere and was attacking the other facility.

An alarm beeped as the mountain base crested on the horizon and quickly began to grow large as the Motherships sped towards it.

"We're being targeted!" Another Jaffa announced.

"Return the favor! Target their defense cannons!" Pha'tok roared.

The Jaffa manning the weapons station grunted softly as he subtly moved the controls under his hands, directing the weapons of his Motherships towards the base of the mountain. On his targeting display, three energy signatures blossomed that were immediately identified as Tau'ri heavy ion cannons. He immediately locked them up and opened fire. The other two Motherships followed his lead and unleashed their weaponry as well.

A stream of orange plasma blasts reached out from the Motherships and splashed over the shields protecting the mountain.  
  
  


**Defense Line Alpha, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States**

Colonel Thorn stood in the forward trench of Defense Line Alpha and shielded his eyes as the intense energy of the shields and the impacting plasma blasts blazed and crackled overhead. Line Alpha, and the company of soldiers stationed there, was situated at the entrance of the valley that led two kilometers down the road towards the entrance of NORAD and the SGC-West. Another two companies held the ridges to either side the valley and another company held Line Beta. All in all, he had a battalion of troops outside the mountain with another inside and that was all he could reasonably fit in the immediate area. There was another two battalions of mechanized infantry hiding in the nearby city of Boulder, along with prototype regiment of Abrams tanks, the 1st Armoured.

They would wait for the Motherships to disgorge their troops before a series of counterattacks would begin from outside the base while he tried his hardest to holdout with only two thousand men.

On the side of the massive mountain behind him, the three Sintesian ion cannons sat purposefully, facing outward to protect the base from an attacker. All eyes turned to the ion cannons, however, as their servomechanisms and base rings rotated the ion cannons around so that they all faced in one direction.

"Aww hell..." Thorn cursed as he realized that the Motherships were almost upon them. Before he could open his mouth and pass orders to his troops, the capacitors of the ion cannons whined with growing energy and their barrel tips began to glow an intense white. The whine grew for several seconds before the barrels of the three cannons recoiled suddenly, unleashing three large bolts of concentrated ion flux towards the closing Motherships. Five seconds later, the cannons fired again. And again.

Cheers broke out among some of his people as they realized that the Motherships were probably taking a pounding. Thorn walked over to the side of the forward trench towards a lookout using an oversized pair of binoculars called 'Big-eyes'. "Let borrow your 'eye's for a second, soldier." He ordered politely.

The young Corporal nodded jerkily and immediately moved aside to let the Colonel use the tripod-mounted binoculars. Thorn looked out in the direction of the ion cannon fire but all he could see was intense flashes of light he assumed was impacting bolts of energy against a Goa'uld shield.

His digital radio beeped for attention and an urgent voice immediately followed. "Thorn, this is Stuart, tell your people to get their heads down and their fannies tucked in tight 'cause the whole worlds about to drop on them! Literally!"

Thorn quickly passed the order to 'get small' in their fox holes and trenches before returning to his radio link with General Stuart in the Ring, in England. "General?"

A heavy sigh drifted over the link. "The ion cannons on the mountain have hit one of your Motherships pretty hard but they haven't enough punch to destroy it and it seems to be out of control or Hek'at has figured out the benefits of the 'divine wind'..."

"You're joking!" Thorn exclaimed gruffly. "It's gonna crash on the shield?"

Several nearby troopers looked up in worry as they heard that. The Colonel shook his head in disgust as he finished on the radio and looked up to see the soldiers in the trenches look up at him with obvious worry.

"Get small and tight." He advised grimly. "One of the Motherships appears to be on a collision course with the mountain. The shield should hold but..."

Several soldiers cursed before hugging the bottom sides of the trenches tight. Thorn looked through the big eyes once more and found he could now easily see the approaching Motherships. The two intact vessels had spread to either side of the damaged one and appeared to be slowing down as the middle one came speeding on, remorselessly, flames streaming from gaping holes in its hull, even as ion bolts continued to pound the already shattered front of the Mothership.

Thorn watched for several more seconds before diving towards the bottom of the trench, screaming the word, "INCOMING!" as the massive Mothership swooped low over their heads and seemed to drop on top of the mountain. The forward sections of the secondary hull hit the shield canopy in a shower of sparks and screeching metal as it crumpled under the impact, collapsing in upon itself before a flash streamed out from the inner sections of the mortally wounded ship and the world around the base turned white.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Pha'tok watched with mixed feelings as the 'War Bringer' slammed into the shield protecting the Tau'ri and exploded in an intense ball of energy that sent wreckage flying for kilometers in every direction.

He was sad for the loss of so many Jaffa, pride that the surviving ship commander had managed to hold his half-dead vessel on course and awe that the impact and resulting explosion had ripped away the Tau'ri shields that would have made the battle a lot tougher.

"Target the ion cannons and destroy them!" He ordered savagely.

The plasma blasts from the two Motherships slammed into the side of Cheyenne Mountain and annihilated the unprotected cannons in white fire. The capacitors and naquada generators were breached almost immediately and the resulting detonation shattered the top of the mountain, leaving a jagged crest and broken rubble everywhere.

Pha'tok frowned with disgruntlement as he realized he had just destroyed his primary landing spot. "Land us at the secondary zone alongside the 'Suppressor'. And open fire upon the ground defenders as we pass over them. The least we can do is rid ourselves of the surface troops before we have to dig the rest out of the mountain."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Engineers deep inside Cheyenne Mountain were busy frantically ripping out shattered fuses and destroyed circuits from the shield generators and restoring main power to the system.

"How much longer?" The detail supervisor asked nervously.

"Five minutes!" An engineer replied, even as he grabbed a handful of burnt wiring from inside an open panel on one of the generators and yanked it out ruthlessly. Another technician dived in immediately afterward and began to connect fresh wiring to the panel, working quickly from a circuit diagram. All around the generator facility, engineers and technicians swarmed over the smoking machinery, trying to bring it back to some semblance of life. Even partial shields would be strong enough to provide the surface defenders with some cover.

The supervisor looked over at the Major beside him whose lips tightened in a grimace before reporting the estimate to the Command Centre.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Colonel Thorn looked up as the Motherships flew overhead, plasma blasts slamming into the ridgeline, killing his troopers, and prayed the shields would come back on quickly.  
  
  


**Goa'uld Commandship 'War Hammer'**

Hek'at studied the reports filtering back from the surface of the planet as their two assault forces began their attacks. The losses at each site were disheartening but not unsurprising. That was why they had detailed four Motherships to each attack.

"The attack upon the 'Russian' Chappa'ai proceeds accordingly." Hek'at mused as the display flickered with a continual, real-time display of the situation on the surface, at both locations. "The attack upon the main facility under the mountain, however, falters." He added.

Bast frowned and turned from the tactical display and the fleet battle to look at the secondary display that Hek'at was intently studying.

"The Tau'ri have managed to restore their canopy shield that protects the mountain installation but Pha'tok is confident of wearing it down under a close range bombardment." He'kat reported.

Bast shook her head. "We haven't the time. I need the Chappa'ai secured immediately and it will take him at least an hour to bring down that shield with only two vessels, even if it is damaged. Tell them both to proceed with a ground assault and with all haste!"

Hek'at nodded in agreement and sent the orders to both Seconds down on the surface of the Tau'ri world. When that was done, he turned back to the display.

"What shall we do about the Tau'ri ships. Their damnable fighters have worn down our udajeet complements to almost nothing. Their bomber squadrons are proving hard to handle without adequate cover from the Death Gliders and that force of ships that appeared at our bellies has cost us sorely. The maniacs are practically skimming the hulls of our Motherships whose commanders hardly dare fire upon them for fear of hitting our own ships!"

Grimacing, Bast studied the display silently for a moment. "Their fleet appears to have its hands full with the rest of the second wave. Let the Motherships occupy their fleet while we take the 'War Hammer' around and attack Earth directly."

Hek'at smiled in sudden realization. "That surprise force must have been the last of their reserves. They have nothing left with which to stop us." He added. "Helm, take us around the battle zone and put us in orbit around the planet."

"There are a number of large, shielded weapon platforms in high orbit." A Jaffa Second cautioned.

Hek'at dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "I doubt they have enough firepower to threaten the 'Hammer. But never the less, we shall concentrate on Earth's defenses first which will allow us to take our time upon their cities."  
  


**Defense Perimeter, SGC-East, Khabarovsk, Russia**

Colonel Alexi Sulakov flinched as a heavy cannon blast impacted near his position. The hastily scraped foxholes where he and his command team lay were to the left of the Jaffa penetration of the perimeter. The Jaffa forces had come out from behind the Kresta Ridge and marched quickly across the scrub plains, barely pausing to reform into an attack echelon, which then proceeded to hurl itself against the two Motor Rifle divisions with incredible ferocity.

The Jaffa appeared to be learning how to use combined arms as well since their attack had been preceded by a heavy artillery barrage, followed by a lay-down of smoke that obscured efforts to attack the charging Jaffa and Scorpions until they were almost on top of the perimeter.

The 285th Motor Rifle had borne the brunt of the attack and, although holding the line for almost thirty minutes against the first wave of Jaffa, a second wave of almost three thousand Jaffa had decisively broken the perimeter along a one-kilometer stretch, forcing the remnants of the 285th to withdraw to the inner secondary defenses. Sulakov had ordered two regiments of T-99 tanks to hold the edges of the penetration along the perimeter while he re-organized his reserves to contain the breakthrough in a new defensive line, forming a bulge in which they could hopefully contain the Jaffa.

Like most professional soldiers, he was a student of history and the irony of the tactical situation was not lost upon him, for his grandfather had helped perform the same maneuver upon the attacking German Army during their last attempted breakout in the late stages of WW2.

Regardless of history, Sulakov didn't intend for the Jaffa to win either.

"Colonel!" His radioman called out. "Sector 12 is reporting a new wave of Jaffa closing in from the south, at least four Legions!"

Sulakov cursed, knowing what he was going to have to do but not seeing any other choice. "Contact one of the last two battalions from the reserve and send them south towards to Sector 12!"

His executive officer raised his head slightly out of his foxhole, looked over at Sulakov and shook his head wearily. "They can't have many more troops available. We've counted at least nine Legions so far..."

"Whereas three Hat'ak Class Motherships can carry up to fifteen Legions." Sulakov interrupted. "Where the hell are my reinforcements?"

The radioman looked up from his position. "I'm getting reports from the base at PVO Domets that they took some incoming fire as the Motherships headed our way. Damage was relatively minor but it has turned everything to chaos at the base. They say it will be another thirty minutes until they can untangle their mess and be on their way here! STAVKA and Defense Net Command are apparently also making other arrangements!"

Sulakov frowned. STAVKA, the Russian military high command appeared to be optimistic if they think that they could get anybody else here in less than three hours. There were no Russian bases closer than PVO Domets and add thirty minutes of transit time to their thirty minutes of 'untangling' meant that it would be an hour until anyone else arrived. In an hour, they might be totally screwed.

From another foxhole, the company's tactical air controller looked up at Sulakov. "Colonel, air support is incoming, two squadrons of Backfires with heavy iron, three minutes out. They're asking for a target!"

Sulakov smiled fiercely. "Tell them to hit the four Legions that are heading for Sector 12!"  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


The Backfire pilots were pressed back in their ejection seats as they throttled their heavy bombers past the speed of sound. Low to the ground, their shockwave obliterated trees and blasted snow off the ground as they streaked towards their target.

The bombardier in the lead plane scanned the horizon for his target, knowing that he would have only a few seconds to designate, lock and release his bombs once the pilot slowed and popped up to release altitude.

"Coming up on target." The pilot reported tersely.

The bombardier felt his guts shift and the bomber suddenly flew upwards like the jet it really was and he stared even harder at his screens. "There!" He exclaimed as he found the Jaffa columns and targeted them with a laser.

"Bombs away!" He called as he slammed the fire button.

The other twenty odd Backfires following the lead plane all found up the lead targeting laser and dropped their bombs one after the other.

Explosion after explosion rippled across the top of the Jaffa's formation shield, protecting them from the blasts and overpressure of the tons of explosive crashing down upon them. Unfortunately, twenty Backfires carried a lot of high explosive and the massive explosions were steadily draining the power of the formation shield. The last eight bombs from the last Backfire to drop its weapons flew downwards at close to three hundred miles an hour, only to fly past the dissipating fire of the previous explosions and past the now completely drained shield. The eight bombs slammed into the rear lines of Jaffa and exploded, clouds of fire rippling across their lines with secondary explosions, killing the better part of two Legions instantly.

The men on the ground cheered but the pilots of the Backfire screamed as they suddenly found themselves targeted by numerous Jaffa on the ground and the two Motherships behind the Kresta Ridge. Staff and plasma blasts filled the air about the fighters as they swerved and twitched in an attempt to evade but it was to no avail and one after the other, they were shredded by the storm of energy that had erupted around them.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Colonel Sulakov watched as the twenty-three Backfires were swatted from the sky in less than a minute. He gave them a silent salute before he cocked the firing lever on his AK-74 and turning his attention to the line of Jaffa that was emerging from the smoke cloud in front of him and then there was no more time for thinking or for orders, only killing.  
  
  


**Defense Line Beta, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States**

Colonel Thorn grimaced as he shifted his right arm into a more comfortable position. It was heavily bandaged after taking a glancing blow from a staff weapon, merely causing deep burns to his shoulder.

The Jaffa had pressed his people heavily and things were looking grim. The companies outside the base had been slaughtered before the techs inside the mountain could restore the shields. Barely five hundred had survived out of the thousand that had been emplaced outside and they had had no choice but to retreat back to Defense Line Beta.

Command informed him that the battalions in Boulder were pushing against thousands of Jaffa still outside the valley leading up to Cheyenne Mountain but they weren't whether they would be able to punch through in time to save the base.

A major approached him; a wrap covered his left eye, blood beginning to seep through the thick bandage. "Sir, we've got the automated guns set up at most of the approach points and we've started filtering people down to the lower levels."

Thorn nodded wearily. The Jaffa had stormed his lines with almost fanatical determination and they were now well inside the surface level of Cheyenne Mountain in force. The massive metal door, nearly six-foot thick, solid steel, had held them up for barely twenty minutes. But it had been enough to set up the automated guns that would cover their retreat as the remaining topside force heading into the bowels on the mountain. With a little luck, they could tie the Jaffa up long enough for the cavalry to arrive and get them off their backs.

He hoped.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


**Defense Net Command Centre**

O'Neill had moved down to the ground floor in order to see first-hand how the ground defense was going.

General Stuart never turned away from his screens as he explained tersely that his conventional forces were being murdered. "We've had some success in Russia with conventional air strikes but only because the Motherships don't have a good field of fire, hiding behind the ridge as they are. The Motherships in Colorado are another kettle of fish though. They're sat in fairly open terrain and though they can't hit the base, they can range on any aircraft that pops up over the horizon to take a potshot at the Jaffa."

O'Neill frowned. "The B-52 strike?"

"Slaughtered before they managed to drop a bomb." Stuart replied in a dark voice. "The Stealth's did a bit better but only with their first strike. The Motherships knew what to look for the second time round and took out four planes before the rest could hightail it out of there."

He turned fully towards O'Neill. "Can you turn me loose a Pegasus squadron or two?"

O'Neill shook his head. "We're barely holding our own up there and it's only the bomber squadrons that are keeping them back. I can't spare any of the new birds."

General Stuart glanced at his tactical display. "Then pray our boys on the ground can hold because if they get to a Stargate, the game's over."

Admiral Patterson cursed and leaned over the railing, towards O'Neill and Stuart. "General!" He called out. "That damned Commandship is moving into orbit! I'm engaging with the weapon platforms and the remaining mines in that sector but I've got nothing else to stop it with..."

O'Neill clenched his fists in despair and frustration. Was it all over?  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Hek'at grinned as another Tau'ri unmanned weapon platform was pelted with heavy plasma blasts. Its shields were impressively strong for its reactor was unhindered by life-support and extravagant computer support but the two-hundred metre platform was being attacked by a vessel 30 times its size and 30,000 times it mass. The weapon platform blew apart under the fire, even as its remaining siblings fired continuously upon the behemoth that was methodically killing them.

The 'Overseer', the lead Shal'kra Mothership under the command of Lady Amun'sul, was engaging the remnants of the Tau'ri fleet and she had informed him that they were surrounded by Tau'ri vessels but were confident of victory as the slaves refused to hold their ships in one place long enough for them to do any serious amount of damage.

The situation on the surface wasn't going so well but that was alright, the 'War Hammer' would be finished with Earth's defenses soon and it could focus its complete attention upon the shielded cities. Even now, however, a few cannon emplacements that weren't engaging the platforms were firing down upon the surface.

This was something every System Lord had dreamed about for years. And now he was finally doing it. He looked up and saw Bast with a similar smile of contentment upon her lovely face. His eyes twinkled at eye before returning to the display.

They were almost done.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


**1st Armored Regiment, eight kilometers west of Cheyenne Mountain**

Captain Walsh scanned the ridgeline in front of him with eminent satisfaction. The Jaffa troops lining that ridge were being pounded by artillery and direct fire from his upgraded Abrams. As his regiment of tanks had moved out from the tree line, the handful of Scorpions on the ridge had opened fire; their plasma blasts slamming into the frontal armour and for the most part dissipating, leaving the tanks intact. Only one tank had dropped out of the line as the plasma blast had slammed into his left track, rendering the eighty-ton vehicle immobile. The Scorpions had, however, been inundated with ion cannon fire from the Abrams, their shields quickly becoming overwhelmed and their armour proving to be near useless. Now only craters remained, dotting the landscape like so many ruptured pustules.

On the other side of the ridge however, sat two Motherships. 1st Armoured was leading the way for the 25th Armoured Division and the 8th Mechanized Division that were ready to counter-attack the Jaffa that were swarming over the Cheyenne Mountain defenders. The tanks and infantry carriers of these two divisions were powerful formations, with fairly effective weaponry against Goa'uld technology as long as they had the numbers. The downside was that they didn't have the ability to take any punishment. A single heavy energy blast could take out an un-enhanced Abrams with ease and so as the two divisions charged forward, it would be up to the 1st Regiment to attract the fire of the Motherships for only they had the armor to take it. The bright side was that the stubby ion cannons on the M1A4 would certainly attract their attention.

"Tiger two-one to all units, when you crest the ridge, aim for the heavy cannons on the Motherships. If we can render them toothless, we can mop up the Jaffa conventionally." Walsh explained.

"8th Mech and the 25th Armoured is in position." The radio announced. "We have another air-strike coming in to distract the Motherships!"

Captain Walsh smiled in satisfaction and wished he had a bugle to sound the charge. "All units, advance!"

Along a two-kilometer front on the other side of the ridge, artillery shells began to fall, laying down a thick cloud of multi-spectral smoke. Six hundred Abrams tanks and almost four hundred Bradley's crested the ridge and charged into the smoke, their weapons blazing fire.

A roar went up amongst the Jaffa on the ground as they turned to meet the charge.  
  
  


**ENS _Shinano_**

"Incoming hyperspace signatures!" A sensor tech called out. "Capital ship size! They're between us and the Commandship!"

"Enemy reinforcements." Captain Renato replied grimly, swiping a sleeve across her forehead, clearing away the blood that was beginning to trickle down the side of her face. "How many?"

The sensor tech's face paled and looked like he'd been punched in the gut as the computer tracked the radiation wave fronts and displayed its results. "At least fifteen, ma'am."

"Put it on the main screen." Renato ordered.

Despite the rumble of battle through the hull of the ship, the bridge was deathly silent as the image of gigantic Commandship appeared on the forward viewer that stretched across the bridge.

The area of space around the massive Goa'uld vessel began to twist and rupture, as fifteen separate points appeared where normal space and hyperspace merged, almost violently. There were several flashes of light and starships began to appear.

A rumble of confusion passed over the bridge as the golden pyramids they were expecting didn't appear. Instead, silver-grey ships, shaped like flattened balls appeared alongside weird coral-like structures that looked like horizontal charcoal trees. The vessels wasted no time before ruby red beams lashed out from the silver vessels and bolts of green energy erupted from the amongst the branches of the vessel, slamming against the obviously surprised Commandship.

"Who the hell do those ships belong to?" Renato barked out.

"Energy signatures are being processed now, Captain...the computer is recognizing some of them as Tollan!"

"What?" Renato asked in amazement.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


"Admiral Kent, we're receiving an incoming communiqué from the lead Tollan vessel...a Chancellor Althin of the Curia wishes to speak with you, sir."

Kent leaned heavily on the handrail near his chair as he felt his knees almost weaken. The Tollan... "Put him through, Lieutenant."

All eyes turned to the main screen as a middle-aged man, immaculately dressed, looked out from what appeared to be a seat on the bridge of his vessel. From what Kent could see, the bridge appeared to be dome shaped, with white walls and holographic displays that ran the circumference of the room.

"Admiral Kent, a pleasure to speak with you." Chancellor Althin greeted him with barely detectable haste. "I realize this must come as somewhat of a shock but the Curia decided we couldn't allow Earth to fall. We lent some persuasion to the Adenan to join us in this fight and we came as soon as we could."

"Your arrival couldn't be more perfect, Chancellor." Kent replied wearily.

Althin nodded seriously. "The Commander of this fleet asks me to inform you that we are sending five ships to assist you as you continue your assault upon the rest of the Goa'uld fleet. We shall handle the 'War Hammer'."

Kent smiled gratefully. "Acknowledge, Chancellor. We'll talk more later. Admiral Kent, out."

As the Chancellor disappeared from the viewer, to be replaced by a tactical view of the fight, Kent turned to face the rest of the CIC.

"Alright, people, you heard the man. Let's get to it!" He called out, energized by the sudden appearance of allies they didn't realize they had.

"Helm, come to course 149, mark 350, half speed. Com, contact those Tollan vessels and get them to hit the Goa'uld flanks, tell the _Path to Freedom_ to..."

The Flag staff burst to life as the orders came thick and fast and, revitalized, they set their hearts and minds to winning this fight once and for all.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Hek'at stared helplessly at the main viewscreen as it showed the compact, silver oval shaped Tollan vessels and the spiky, dark grey, tree-like vessels of the Adenan's flash into normal space all around the massive Commandship. The 'War Hammer' rocked hard as the Tollan and Adenan ships opened fire, intense red beams and fiery green bolts of energy raking the Dhan'hak class vessel mercilessly.

Bast cursed as she saw the Tau'ri ships conform to the new ships tactics. Whoever was in command of the Tau'ri fleet began to concentrate solely on her remaining Shal'kra and Hat'ak Motherships as the Tollan and Adenan focused upon her Commandship.

"Shield energy falling!" A Jaffa called out anxiously. "80% and dropping!"

Hek'at slammed a fist into the nearest bulkhead. "Reinforce! Divert power from the weapons!"

"The 'Overseer' is requesting assistance! The Tau'ri vessels have re-grouped with five Tollan ships and are beginning to break their defenses!"

Bast moved towards the command console and the Jaffa Second there. "Order Lady Amun'sul and all remaining ships to close formation with the 'Hammer' and put us on an outbound course."

As the Jaffa helmsman complied with the order, Bast moved closed to Hek'at and spoke urgently and quietly. "We need to cut our losses, my love."

Hek'at's face became impassive at the sudden turn of events. "Retreat?"

Bast nodded with manifest unwillingness.

The bridge shook hard again as shield power dropped suddenly as a wing of surviving Pegasus bombers swept past, missiles and bombs flying and cannons blasting away at the 6km vessel. The shields glowed intensely under the constant bombardment from the varied and numerous vessels surrounding it. Any Alliance vessel that had a powered weapon pointed towards the Commandship seemed to be firing upon it. Beams and bolts of energy slammed into it from all sides.

Hek'at's mouth set into a thin line. "The question is, will O'Neill let us retreat?"  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The sudden acceleration of the Motherships away from the battle caught the Alliance fleet by surprise. The reaction-less drives of the Goa'uld vessels allowed for radical course changes and the pilots of the Motherships used that advantage to great effect, allowing them to almost instantly reverse direction.

The Tollan and Adenan vessels were just as quick off the mark but they kept formation with the rest of the Alliance Fleet as the remaining Earth, Sintesian, Polarian, Entrican and Gryphonese vessels laboriously turned around and began to chase the Motherships.

Shots continued to be exchanged but once the Motherships had cleared the gravity well of Earth, they jumped into hyperspace.

Cheers broke out amongst the crews of the Fleet but they were quickly put on hold as they were reminded of the handful of Motherships parked on the ground, back on Earth, that were currently pasting the defenders of the two Stargate installations.

Admiral Kent quickly passed out the orders and the Fleet headed back to Earth orbit. Those Motherships weren't going anywhere.  
  


  
**Level 21, SGC-West, Cheyenne Mountain**

Colonel Thorn snarled in anger as he let loose a continuous stream of fire from his SAW, down the corridor at the charging Jaffa, emptying the 200-round ammo box in seconds. The Jaffa Cohorts were almost through to level 22, one more level down and they were at the Stargate.

The sounds of intense combat echoed through the entire level as the remnants of his battalion fought a losing battle back to the 'Gate. One of his men had suggested powering up the Stargate and using it to bring over reinforcements from Spearhead. At the time, Thorn had denied the request as that would require taking the Iris down to level 1, taking the 'plug' away from the center of the naquada ring and giving the gate space for a wormhole to form. The Goa'uld had, however, displayed an impressive ability to activate a Stargate in a very short time. Faster than he thought the Command Centre would be able to dial out. Allowing the Stargate to work would have merely allowed Jaffa to breach their rear area and that was a risk they couldn't have taken.

Then.

Now the situation was getting desperate.

Thorn quickly and automatically reloaded his SAW, as his escorts fired down the corridor, cutting down the rest of the charging Jaffa. A handful of seconds later and Thorn was reloaded. He tensed himself and leaned out into the corridor, ready to fire on any Jaffa he saw. Smoke drifted across the bodies that littered the long space but all was eerily silent.

The Corporal that leaded against the corner of the wall across from him looked his way. "Colonel, can you hear that?"

Fearing a new trick, Thorn ceased all motion and strained his ears for the sound of shifting Jaffa. Strangely, he couldn't hear anything. All the sounds of combat had fallen off and silence reigned throughout the base.

"Have they retreated?" He wondered out loud.

The Corporal frowned and twisted backwards. "Parker, Mordechai, with me!" He whispered urgently.

Thorn said nothing as the three young but veteran soldiers moved slowly down the corridor, their weapons pointed at the far end, tense fingers on their triggers.

What seemed like an eternity later, they reached the end of the corridor and the Corporal literally lowered his weapon and scratched his head. "Sir, they're gone!"

The radio began to buzz with confused soldiers wonder where the Jaffa in their sectors had gone as well.

What the hell? Thorn thought.  
  
  
  


**Inner Defense Perimeter, SGC-East, Khabarovsk, Russia**

Colonel Sulakov grunted stoically as the latest Jaffa attack overran his outer line of defense. They had taken heavy losses but the attack had decisively broken his lines and Jaffa were beginning to spread out into his inner area that was held by tired and wounded troopers.

His two divisions defending the Bright Sword facility now amounted to less than a brigade, barely six thousand men in all, hardly any of which were in good condition, almost all were low on ammo. Frontal Aviation had continued to make low-level air strikes but the majority of each successive wave was blotted out of the sky. Even so, they continued to come and they were possibly the only thing that had held the Jaffa back so far, which made him thankful that the Fleet had been able to keep their udajeet complement occupied.

Alexi snorted. On the other hand, a couple of squadrons of Pegasus bombers would have made mincemeat of these guys but they were occupied keeping the udajeets occupied. Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

A murmur passed amongst the surrounding Russian troopers as new wave of Scorpions and Jaffa had arrived from the Motherships behind the Kresta Ridge and they were now assembling for the final attack.

His radioman had been killed earlier and all he had was a tactical radio unit but the chatter over it began to increase. Alexi initially though it signaled the start of the Jaffa attack but as he studied the area in front of him, the Jaffa were still reforming.

Suddenly, a swarm of missiles streaked in from behind him and slammed into the Jaffa and their equipment. Scorpions faltered and exploded and Jaffa were scythed down by a spray of heavy caliber bullets.

Sulakov's head whipped round to see a veritable cloud of helicopters streak across the base behind him, barely ten feet off the deck. Their chin-mounted guns 'buurrpped' as heavy caliber bullets reached out like a finger of God and cut down the charging Jaffa like wheat.

He squinted at the stubby attack helicopters and the red flag on the fuselage. "The Chinese?" He wondered out loud. Even as he watched, large twin rotored transports pulled up and disgorged thousands of fresh, fully equipped soldiers who ran forward and began to drop into the trenches amongst the Russian soldiers. Despite the obvious language difficulties, the Russian embraced their saviors who smiled ferally before passing out ammunition and then opening fire on the still numerous Jaffa.

A squad of Chinese marines dropped into the trench beside Sulakov and began to pass out Kalashnikov clips. Sulakov took several from a Chinese soldier who recognized his rank and stiffened to attention. He smiled and spoke hesitantly in Russian. "Hope we...not late?"

Sulakov felt a fierce surge of friendship for this man and his brethren who had come to his aid. Alexi smiled broadly and gripped the man's shoulder in greeting as they moved over to the trench and began to fight once more, pushing the Jaffa back from their land.  
  
  
  


**Level 1, SGC-West, Cheyenne Mountain**

Thorn and his reinforced platoon made up from the survivors of Level 21 had backtracked all the way up to the surface levels. The rest of his battalion was still dug in on level 22 while he figured out what was going on.

Purposefully, his platoon spread out and made their way through the demolished NORAD checkpoints in the main entrance and onto the surface level. As the pushed opened a set of jammed doors, intense light flooded the area. What should have been the main security checkpoint and a two-hundred ton steel door was now exposed wide open space. Daylight streamed in from the long, massive corridor that led out of the Mountain and silhouetted in that entrance was what appeared to be a heavily modified Abrams tank.

"It's all right, they're our guys!" A voice called out jubilantly from the end of the tunnel.

Thorn and his squad moved forward hesitantly as a man jumped down from the top of the heavily battered looking tank and walked over to meet them.

The tank commander, a captain, halted in front of Thorn and assumed a stiff parade ground stance and saluted. "Captain Walsh, Tank two-one, 1st Armoured Regiment, Colonel. Are we glad to see you!"

"Captain?" Thorn asked hoarsely as he returned the salute.

Walsh smiled broadly. "We kicked butt all the way to get here, sir. When we couldn't raise anybody down there, we'd though you'd all perished, sir..."

"There's a jamming device still active down there, somewhere..." Thorn replied absently. "We're all bottled up on level 22."

Walsh nodded in understanding as squads of troops from the 8th Mech started streaming past his tank and headed down into the facility. "Well, those guys will go down and flush out any remaining Jaffa but if you made it all the way to the surface without meeting anyone, I'd say it's a good bet that they kept attacking to the last man when they realized the we had taken the surface."

Thorn nodded, the truth beginning to sink in. "We held." He finished.

The tank commander held out his hand that Thorn met with his own and they shook firmly. "Sure as hell, Colonel."  
  
  


**19:36 ZULU, February 22nd 2010  
Defense Net Command Centre**

"...and Rear Admiral Haster informs me that he'll have half of our remaining ships back to at least seventy percent capacity within three days." Admiral Kent reported quietly. "After which, I'll be dispatching most of them back on station amongst the rest of the Alliance. They can finish their repair work using the local facilities."

O'Neill, sat in the command chair, at the center of the balcony, nodded wearily at the face of Admiral Kent that filled the massive, two story wall screen. Kent was still onboard the Ark Royal, seeing to the desperate repairs to his ships and the transfer of the wounded to Earth. His console began to beep for attention. "Hold on, Admiral." O'Neill said, and punched a button on the console. "O'Neill." He announced.

A young voice filtered over the speaker. "Sir, I have an incoming communiqué from Chancellor Althin onboard the Virtuous."

O'Neill smiled slightly and looked up at Kent, who grinned unabashedly. "We'll finish up later, General. Kent, out." The Admiral finished quickly, before his face disappeared from the screen.

Shaking his head, O'Neill sat upright in his chair. "Put the Chancellor on the main screen." He ordered.

A second later, the screen changed and Chancellor Althin smooth, urbane presence filled the screen. "Supreme Commander O'Neill." Althin greeted him warmly.

O'Neill smiled. "So formal, Chancellor." He quipped. "O'Neill's fine, sir, General, if you want to be formal. I've never gotten used to the 'Supreme Allied Commander' thing I got saddled with."

Althin looked confused. "But you are the Supreme Commander, are you not?"

O'Neill nodded firmly. "I figure nobody else was dumb enough to take the job."

Shaking his head at the mass of contradictions the Tau'ri continually presented, Althin got right down to business. "Supre...General. We of the Curia have watched, and ignored that affairs of the Galaxy for many, many years. We are descendants of Earth and yet we consider ourselves more advanced and above the petty struggles of the younger races. I'm sure you're aware that this is an affliction not just restricted to us."

O'Neill gave a grim nod and Althin continued. "The System Lord attack upon our world shook our society to its core and for the first time in a thousand years, we found ourselves angry. Angry at what had been done to us, angry at what we had allowed to be done to us and to other races. I'm ashamed to say that if it weren't for the attack, we probably wouldn't have made this realization. Regardless, we of the Curia have made our decision."

The entire Defense Net Command Centre fell silent and Althin became visibly formal. "Supreme Commander O'Neill, I have been empowered by the Curia of New Tollana and by the Council of Elders of the Adenan Unity to request full membership of state within the Earth Alliance."  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 5  
The Aftermath...**

**February 23rd 2010  
Leicester, East Midlands, United Kingdom**

The wind tore at the hair and clothing of the small entourage of people as they surveyed the devastated landscape before them. Prime Minister Elizabeth Grant bit her lip with despair as she noted the few remaining buildings that were little more than shattered foundations dotting the landscape. Small fires continued to smolder against the few scraps of flammable material that remained from the firestorm that had now passed.

They were at the outskirts of what used to be the city of Leicester, a medium sized place of around forty to fifty thousand people. Many of those were now dead. England had been allotted fifteen canopy shields with Mk IX naquada generators to power them. Understandably, Grant had assigned them to the largest cities, up and down the country but that still left far, far too many places without adequate protection. They had done their best to move as many people as possible under a canopy shield but their range was limited to around twenty kilometres and barely six percent of the population had managed to get under cover.

As Hek'at's Motherships had entered the atmosphere, heading for the Stargate centres in Colorado and Southeastern Russia, his vessels had indiscriminately fired upon the unshielded population in Europe and Asia. The 'War Hammer' had continued the bombardment before the Fleet had been able to force Bast to retreat.

The damage had been immense and the death toll was horrific. The latest count was nearly thirty million confirmed dead and millions still missing.

"How many survivors have we found?" She asked quietly, her voice hardly reaching above the wind.

Major Kent, commander of the regional Emergency Task Force shook his head slightly. "None from the inner city. It was only after two miles out that we began to get survivors. Badly hurt, severe burns..." He trailed off as her face became even paler than it had been before. "We're still finding survivors within the city limits, even as we speak."

Christ, Grant thought, it was so bad he couldn't even answer the question.

The Home Secretary Tony Brown glanced at his datapad before he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am, its time for us to go, we can't do anything else here."

"What else am I supposed to do, Tony?"

"Lead, Ma'am." The short Minister replied bluntly. "The people are frightened. They need reassurance its over."

"I'm frightened." Elizabeth responded harshly. "Who reassures me?"

Tony sighed. "The Fleet, I suppose. General O'Neill, if you want someone to talk to."

Nodding despondently, she gestured towards the devastated landscape. "I was supposed to protect them. They asked me to watch out for them, to ensure they could live and laugh and love without anyone or anything hurting them."

"I doubt anyone holds you responsible for what's happened." Tony rebuked gently.

"I hold myself responsible!" She practically shouted. The half dozen Security Service personnel turned slightly at the outburst but just as quickly turned away, to resume scanning their sectors.

The lead agent of the Service personnel moved next to the Foreign Minister while he held a hand to his ear, obviously listening to a message coming in over his earpiece radio. "Ma'am, I'd like to get you back to the 'Street', this place isn't secure."

Grant bit back an angry reply and turned furiously back to the scorched landscape. Medical and relief transports could be seen flying in and out of the disaster area. After a minute had passed, she had managed to calm herself before she turned around to reply.

"Very well, Charlie, let's go." She replied quietly.

Subdued, the small group headed towards the waiting transports, whose engines were beginning to spool up, the whine growing louder as the pilot made ready to lift off.

As they walked up the ramp of the brand new, sparse but comfortable, governmental transport built with the same technology that built the Pegasus bombers and Sabre fighters, Grant paused at the base of the ramp to look back one last time at the devastation wrought casually by the passing of the invading Motherships.

"Damn them to hell."  
  


**Bast's Fortress, Sohag**  
  


Bast stood the viewport in her personal quarters and stared out at a sea of stars. The tranquil scene was at odds with her inner turbulence. Hek'at sat on a plush sofa, watching his lover intently. Ever since the remnants of the invasion fleet had returned to Sohag, she had been silent and withdrawn. She had given no orders, had made no comments as her Jaffa commanders had been debriefed over the disaster that had occurred in Tau'ri space. He was incredibly worried. It was unlike Bast to be so...beaten.

Oh, he knew what she was thinking. The self-flagellation and the way the brain locked itself into circles as you went over the events that had led to your failure and you wondered what you could have done different. Yes, he was very familiar with the results of being beaten by those 'slaves', the Tau'ri.

"Lord Kel'phat reported that the repairs to the 'War Hammer' were finished today." He commented quietly.

There was no response from Bast.

Frowning, Hek'at leaned forward slowly. "Our patrols have picked up no sign of pursuit. We hurt them too much for them to consider attacking us."

"Yet."

At first, Hek'at wasn't sure she had spoken the word for the voice was nigh on unrecognizable but she turned around and continued in that same dark, hoarse tone.

"Yes, we hurt them but they savaged us. We...I...walked right into their trap." She finished bitterly.

Hek'at winced and shook his head. "I don't believe it was a trap exactly...we couldn't have known they had recruited more allies. We had left to attack Earth before we could get word of the Tau'ri fleet destroying our task force in Adenan space. We couldn't have known they had enlisted another world. And the Tollan, we assumed they would continue their isolation as they have done for centuries."

Bast, her face dark with foreboding, moved over to her ornately decorated desk and pressed a button. A hologram floated in the space at the center of the room, showing the disposition of all known ships and fleets across their section of the galaxy. "We now have no strategic reserve. I fail to see how the Tau'ri and their allies can not know this, therefore, I need you to go out to our ship production centers and 'encourage' them to work faster. We need more ships, First Prime." She finished, her voice just as harsh as when it had started.

Hek'at stared at his Queen and lover. She had never resorted to traditional methods of intimidation before, in fact, she had always been downright pleasant to work for compared to practically any other System Lord. But this...her defeat, the pressure she was under, seemed to have begun to make her revert to type, as it were.

He couldn't help but feel this was a mistake. Her Jaffa and those of the other System Lords practically adored her, not because she was a God in their eyes but because she cared for them like no other System Lord had, even their own. Threats and intimidation now would only serve to break their already fractured confidence in the Union.

"Perhaps if I simply contacted them and explained..." He started.

"NO!" Bast roared, the first sign of real emotion he had seen from her in over a day. "They need no explanations! I am their God and they will obey my wishes!" She spitted him with a stare. "As will you!"

Hek'at, unsure of her words, stepped back a pace. Her eyes and posture seemed to falter as he put space between them but they hardened just as quickly, overriding the regret he thought he saw in her face. "Leave me and tend to my orders and to your Jaffa, First Prime." She ordered.

Almost stunned by her emotional turnabout, he bowed deeply and exited without another word.

Bast watched him leave and continued to stare at the door after he had gone, a single, small tear trickling down her cheek.  
  


**Stargate Command (West)  
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, United States**

O'Neill rubbed his eyes tiredly. The reports streamed in constantly, from all around the world. The American and Russian regular forces had been gutted in their constant and almost fanatic attacks upon the invading Jaffa.

The B-52 and F/A-18 squadrons that had attacked the Motherships had been all but annihilated and the remnants of 25th Armoured and 8th Mech Division combined amounted to less than an intact brigade. General Stuart had remorselessly committed wave after wave of troops in an effort to smash the enemy before he could secure his beachheads and attack the two Stargate facilities. The counterattack led by the experimental M1A4 Abrams of the 1st Armoured Regiment had saved the day at Cheyenne Mountain, the advanced armour and weaponry of the tanks proving to be a match for the Jaffa Scorpions.

The Russian forces were in no better shape with the 285th and 191st Motor Rifle Divisions literally ceasing to exist as a fighting force. It had only been the arrival of the Chinese 12th Air Assault Division that had charged north across the Amur River and engaged the weakened Jaffa forces, saving Khabavrosk and SCG-East from destruction.

Their successes had come at a high price but with the stunning and completely unexpected intervention of the Tollan and Adenan fleets, they had achieved a magnificent victory with over eighty percent of the Bast's invasion force destroyed and the remainder heavily damaged. The prize, however, had been the capture of the five Motherships that attacked the SGC facilities. Intelligence and R&D were already fighting over the rich pickings there.

A subdued knock on his office door caused him to look up. "Come." He called out.

The door opened up and Brigadier General Samantha Carter stepped through. Her hair was damp and she wore fresh BDU's and the aroma of shower soap drifted through the room. "Afternoon, General." Despite her fresh appearance, her countenance was grim and her eyes dark.

"Sam!" O'Neill replied in surprise. "When did you get back?"

Although she had been promoted and given command of Spearhead, she had returned to help the Scientific Support Division get the 1st Armoured Regiment ready for a fight. The tanks were still highly experimental and there hadn't been a project out of the SSD for the past fifteen years that she hadn't had a hand in. After the attacks had been beaten off, she had gone out with the rescue and relief crews to help the local populace.

"We returned about an hour ago. Boulder's a mess. The Emergency Relief teams are trying their best but the Jaffa blew the hell out of the place once that Motherships crashed into the canopy shields and the orbital bombardment from the 'War Hammer' took them out. The only bright side is that a fair number of the civilians there evacuated the city since it was so close to an obvious primary target."

O'Neill nodded despairingly. In the closing stages of the space battle, the 'War Hammer' and its orbital bombardment of Cheyenne Mountain had pounded the already weakened shield heavily. After the shield had fallen, Boulder had taken several direct hits from the weapons fire from the Commandship and the city was an almost total loss.

"What have you been doing?" Sam asked quietly.

O'Neill hesitated for a second, but only a second before he passed her his datapad. Curiously, she activated it and scrolled through its immediate contents.

"Holy cow, sir!" She exclaimed quietly. "Are you sure about this?"

O'Neill lifted himself out of his chair and stepped over to the counter top and shelves that lined that side of his office. On it were books, files and pictures. O'Neill picked up a small, simple wooden frame that held a picture of SG-1, relaxing on some world. He and Teal'c both had fishing rods, Sam had her laptop open and Danny...Danny was scratching in the dirt...again. They had all paused from their pursuits for a moment as Jonas Quinn had taken the photo.

"I'm sure, Sam."

Sam let out a puff of air as she considered the contents on the datapad once more. "When are you going to put this forward?"

O'Neill studied the photo a moment longer and then put it back on the shelf, turning round to face his old friend. "Tomorrow." He replied. "At the Fleet Debrief."  
  
  


**February 24th 2010  
Fleet Debrief, The Vault, SGC-West**

The military commanders and their staffs filled the Vault, almost to capacity. O'Neill scanned the sea of faces, both alien and human, all sitting and working together in a way that the Galaxy had not seen for a long time and 'that' alliance had only consisted of four races. With the Tollan and Adenans petitioning to join the Alliance, the number of races now fighting with Earth against the Goa'uld now rose to nineteen. Admittedly, only five...sorry, now seven, of these races were powerful enough to make meaningful materiel contributions to the Alliance but the other smaller worlds were still highly valued members and they continued to make massive strides in improving their own situations. Many of these civilizations had been barely eking out an existence, the System Lords purposely keeping them ground down, making them easier to control. Now, with the help of Earth and the others of the Alliance, they were carefully being exposed to modern technologies.

The hard-core anthropologists and sociologists on Earth were going nuts trying to enact General Directive 3, the Alliance version of the 'Prime Directive', but O'Neill had never liked the non-interference policy as a rule that should be set in stone and other like him among the Alliance had found ways to work around the Directive in more than a few cases and begun to help other worlds rather than watching them from orbit without having to get their hands dirty.

Regardless, the military strength of the Alliance had just increased by a huge factor and with a little luck, they might just be able to make headway in this war sooner than anyone had a right to expect.

O'Neill moved to the front of the table, next to Admiral Patterson and sat down, placing his data pad in front of him. They had all spent the morning going over their after action reports from the battle two days ago and for the most part, the reports were positive and his people, though hit hard from all the casualties they had endured had learned a lot and it had showed from the conversations of the past five hours. They had broken for lunch and now O'Neill was ready to put forward a proposal, something that was going to knock everyone's socks off. The other military chiefs saw this and broke off their conversations, each moving to their own places at the table. O'Neill waited for a minute while everyone settled down before he smiled thinly.

"People, Bast stuck her neck out, hoping for a knockout blow but now, she's tripped up and it's her head on the chopping block."

A few grins appeared on the Earth military personnel but the majority of the alien soldiers and sailors appeared slightly confused. O'Neill broke out into a full grin as he saw that confusion and shook his head. "What I mean by that is that Bast tried to take Earth out of the picture but thanks to the Tollan and Adenan fleet, we've destroyed a large portion of Bast's fleet. This has left her vulnerable in ways I don't think she suspects."

Admiral J'Thuk, the hulking Sintesian bear-like figure, huffed in amusement, his large nostrils flaring. "I like to think I know you pretty well now, Jack. Now I ask myself, do I really want to know what it is you're thinking?"

A round of chuckles greeted the Sintesian's comment but O'Neill merely grinned. The Tollan CO, Commander Kestan, frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I cannot think like a Tau'ri, despite our biological similarities. Perhaps you could explain what it is you have in mind?"

O'Neill nodded. "I have the inklings of a plan, Commander, one that takes advantage of Bast's sudden weaknesses."

"You intend to liberate Gryphon!" Admiral Serena breathed out in sudden understanding.

The dawning realization of O'Neill's plan became apparent on the rest of military conglomerate.

The Gryphon military liaison, General Yakizo, who had sat in a self-imposed exclusion at one side of the room, found his veneer of gloom disappearing under the bursting light of hope as Serena's words penetrated his consciousness. Professional though the young General was, his orders from his Queen had left him in a personal quandary. He was safe and protected on Earth while his friends and family fought and died in defense of Gryphon. At first, Yakizo had been the epitome of professionalism but as the weeks wore on, the reports of the fighting had ground him down as steadily as if he'd been fighting on the plains himself. The final blow had been when all communications with Gryphon had been lost. Since then, the unknown had haunted his every moment of existence and O'Neill had watched the younger man grow haggard with despair.

Now, he watched the life return to his eyes and Yakizo stepped forward with the face of man presented with a life preserver as he floats in an infinite ocean.

"That's right." O'Neill confirmed with a twinkle in his eye. "It's time we went back and helped the soldiers of Gryphon finish kicking the Jaffa off of their world once and for all."

Yakizo leaned heavily against his chair as he felt his knees become weak. He was going home!

Admiral Marakesh chuckled to himself, drawing the attention of the room. He smiled under the questioning stares and pointed at Yakizo. "Knowing what I know of the people of Gryphon, I doubt very much they will have left much for us to do there at all."

The room exploded with laughter and Yakizo smiled gratefully at the other Admiral as he rejoined the table, several other commanders and captains slapping him on the back in support as he did so. He was among friends and he railed against himself about how he had forgotten that.

"I think we can take this one step further..." Admiral Serena announced suddenly.

O'Neill raised an eyebrow at her as the room fell silent and she shrugged. "If we can maintain the momentum, perhaps we can go a little further than Gryphon..." She added.

Admiral Marakesh grimaced impatiently. "Dammit, woman, just tell us what that twisted mind of yours is thinking about!"

She smiled once as the room strained to hear her response. "Sohag." She replied.

Someone at the back of the room swore softly and was instantly hushed by someone near to him. The Admirals round the table looked at each other until all eyes fell on the Admiral of the Fleet.

Admiral Patterson sighed deeply as he considered production schedules, fleet strengths and a whole host of other factors, especially political ones. O'Neill had approached him this morning with the intent of liberating Gryphon and with the new fleet elements from the Tollan and Adenan forces, he was confident of a successful mission. Admiral Serena's suggestion was several magnitudes above what O'Neill had initially proposed.

Glancing at the Supreme Allied Commander, Admiral Patterson shrugged. "It's a sound idea. I doubt we'll have an opportunity like this for another ten years but it will depend on one thing."

"What's that?" O'Neill asked quietly.

"That we scrape up as much firepower as we can in the next four months. It will require a hundred and ten percent commitment from every member of the Alliance and the willingness to risk everything we have achieved to date in order to cut twenty years off the war."

"It sounds reckless." Commander Kestan commented.

O'Neill grinned. "Quite possibly, Commander, but reckless got the people of Earth to where we are today."

Surprisingly, Kestan smiled is response. "Perhaps. It is the opinion of the older races that you are too reckless..." The commander raised his hand to forestall the muttered comments that had begun from around the Vault. "...However, it is also our opinion that we are not 'reckless' enough. Perhaps together we can find a balance that will spell doom for the System Lords, once and for all."

A chorus of agreements and cheers echoed round the Vault, slightly surprising but pleasing the Tollan and Adenan contingents.

O'Neill nodded at the unity he was seeing being forged her and for the first time in ages, he felt complete certainty that they were going to win.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Epilogue**  
  
  
  
  


**13:00 ZULU  
March 1st 2010  
United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England**

Chairman of the UE World Council, Russian Premier Iliana Kutsov, watched steadily as the last handful of Council members filtered in through the main doors and silently moved to their seats. While many were incredibly busy, dealing with severe damage dealt to their various countries by the Goa'uld invasion force, none would have missed this meeting for anything in the world.

Turning her head, she met the steady gaze of General O'Neill, the Supreme Allied Commander of all military forces on thirty-one worlds. The weathered features, dark eyes and lean figure, with his silvering hair and salt and pepper beard, gave him a presence that somehow filled the Chamber. Over a hundred heads of states were assembled in front of him, some of them born to power and of lineages that stretched back a thousand years and yet all of them seemed to fade into the background as O'Neill stepped onto the empty floor at the center of the Council Chamber.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming." O'Neill began. "I know you've all been working tirelessly in the past few days, repairing the damage that has been done to our world but I come before you with a request."

O'Neill's eyes scanned the assembled Prime Ministers and Premiers, Presidents and Chancellors, Kings and Queens. They all returned his gaze with vary expressions, some looked tired, some looked nervous, a few even looked at him with disgust, the handful of people that still blamed him for unleashing all this upon Earth and its people.

So be it, O'Neill thought, knowing that he had done far more good for his people than he ever had to harm them.

"A request that could considerably shorten the course of this war." He continued steadily. "Since day one, Earth has managed to survive the attentions of the System Lords thanks to their inability to set aside their differences and, of course, a lot of luck. The Alliance military has expended a lot of effort to keep the internecine warfare between the System Lords at a high level while we quietly build up of forces."

"The appearance of Bast ten years ago forced us to become somewhat more direct in our approach as she began to forge a Union out of the System Lords. This might have signaled the death of our civilization if it wasn't for Lord Yu and his Separatist movement that acted as a perfect counterpoint to Bast's Union, returning the galactic situation to a stable, if dangerous, equilibrium."

O'Neill's features darkened. "Now, with the events of the past month, you truly know how dangerous Bast is for, even though her Union fights against the Separatists, she still recognized us as a threat and marshaled enough forces to try and eliminate us."

"Less than two weeks ago, she almost succeeded." The somber silence that met this flat statement was telling in and of itself. To the people of Earth, the war had been a far off thing of distant battles and vague horrors. Now it had been brought to their doorstep and it was proving to be a cathartic experience to all.

O'Neill suddenly grinned slightly. "Thanks to the Tollan and the Adenans, we utterly defeated her invasion force albeit at high cost to both sides."

"This victory, however, has led to an opportunity that I and my military commanders feel that we must take of advantage of while the opportunity exists."

Steeling himself internally, O'Neill sank the hook. "Ladies and gentlemen, I come before you to ask you permission to begin preparations for what we have called 'Operation Guillotine'."

The lights in the Chamber dimmed and the massive wall screen behind the General flickered to life. A galactic map appeared and zoomed in on a section of space at the heart of Union Territory. The icon for Sohag began to blink.

"Council members, Bast had to scrap, borrow and steal enough ships to attack us in the manner that she did. She is fighting a war on two fronts and it is costing her heavily in terms of manpower and ships. Since the destruction of the majority of her invasion fleet, which represented almost all her reserve forces, she is hurting for offensive assets. Alliance and Tok'ra Intelligence believes that it will take her anywhere from six month to a year to replenish her fleet losses. Our losses were similar on a per ratio basis but our ships are less complex and have far less build times. With a little luck and hard work, we should be back to pre-fight levels within two to four months."

O'Neill paused, expecting a comment from the audience but the assembled heads of state were quiet and showed no signs of wanting to speak. Even President Kinsey sat in his chair, studying the wall screen display thoughtfully. O'Neill shrugged mentally and carried on.

"What 'Guillotine' would entail is a handful of escalating, diversionary strikes against Bast's outlying but strategically important worlds, culminating with a direct assault upon Gryphon. Once we have liberated that world, I intend to take full advantage of the momentum we will have built by that point, and make a lightning strike against her capital, Sohag, with the intention of capturing or at the very least eliminating Bast."

The council members began to stir at that, some speaking in harsh whispers to each other. The Swedish Prime Minister frowned deeply. "You're beginning to exceed your authority again, General. What you propose is a considerable escalation and yet you stand there as if you are informing us of your intent rather than asking permission. Non of us have forgotten how you circumvented standard procedure and dispatched a large portion of Third Fleet to an incredibly risky proposition in Adenan space."

O'Neill knew he hadn't made many friends among the political and ambassadorial apparatus with that maneuver; Shiv was okay with it but even he had taken heat just for being O'Neill's friend. O'Neill opened his mouth to reply but the other man cut him off. "Yes, I know it turned out great in the end but it could have just as easily swung the other way. I'm sure my esteemed colleagues have their own thoughts on the matter?" He said, opening the floor for more support.

Predictably, President Kinsey was the first to signal for attention. After Chairwoman Kutsov signaled for him to speak, Kinsey surprised everyone by begin almost respectful towards O'Neill and not his usual abrasive self.

"General, do you have enough firepower to consider such a large-scale fleet operation?"

O'Neill nodded, unsure as to why Kinsey was ignoring the opportunity to bait him but willing to go along with it, as his aide, Colonel Krupskaya brought up an Alliance Fleet Order of Battle up on the wall screen, showing the breakdown of ships types that were expected to be available at the beginning of the operation. "Yes, Mr. President, with the addition of the Tollan and Adenan fleets, and the completion of the hulls currently under construction among the forge worlds of the Alliance, we believe we have an excellent chance of defeating her central ships and taking Bast out."

"And in doing so, forcing her Union to collapse and allowing us to take them apart one at a time." Kinsey concluded, showing he fully understood the implications of 'Operation Guillotine'.

O'Neill smiled in slight surprise, their eyes meeting and for the first time, the two old enemies were in complete agreement. "Exactly, Mr. President. Exactly."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


**Sohag**

Hek'at and a handful of Seconds stood in front of the Chappa'ai and gripped his fists in frustration. The 'thunk' of each chevron as it dialed was like a knife stabbing into his mind. Behind him, several Legions waited patiently, ready to pass through the Chappa'ai to Gryphon. Hek'at was going to depart Sohag for a while, and tend to the ground war on Gryphon before touring the construction facilities around the Union. Maybe he could soften Bast's orders without her ever knowing.

"Our God Bast is troubled, Hek'at, no more." One of the Seconds, Ok'ran, a close friend of Hek'at, said softly. "Give her time and she will regret her hasty words."

Hek'at spitted him with harsh stare that quickly melted into a rueful smile. "If we could harness the power by which word travels among the Legions, we would have a weapon like no other, Ok'ran."

"Surely." Ok'ran replied with quiet humor. "Hek'at, she will come around and remember her love for you. You have won the heart of a God, my friend, and that is not something to be easily broken."

The First Prime sighed deeply as the Chappa'ai engaged and he became bathed in blue light. "I fear this situation may not be so easily overcome."

Ok'ran stiffened to attention. "We are Jaffa. We go were we are told and we overcome in the name of our Lords. Our Gods are powerful, Hek'at, but what would a God be without their worshippers?"

Hek'at studied his old friend anew. He had known that they way Bast had treated her Jaffa with respect had caused their worldview to expand but the First Prime had never heard talk like this from the rank and file among the Jaffa. "What are you saying, Ok'ran?"

Ok'ran relaxed slightly and smiled. "I'm saying, old friend, that Bast needs you. She cannot succeed in her mission without you for you have brought us here just as much as she has. Give her time to realize this and soon she will be wanting you by her side once more."

"And how many of us feel this way?" Hek'at asked quietly, wondering how far the 'elevation' in think had spread among the Jaffa.

"Enough." Ok'ran replied. "Enough."

Hek'at was silent a moment, pondering this new information, before shaking himself free of that line of thought. Time for that later. "Enough of this. Come, my friends. The war on Gryphon awaits!"

Hek'at bounced a fist off his friends armour and then strode purposefully up the steps and walked straight into the shimmering pool of light.  
  
  


**Deep Space, Goa'uld Union Territory  
Mothership 'God's Will'**  
  


"From what my people tell me, the Tau'ri defeated your 'Union' quite soundly." Lord Yu announced, his voice carrying only a trace of smugness.

Lord Kiptakanae gripped the arm rests of his throne in anger and frustration. "The Tau'ri filth were lucky. We had them in our grasp and the damned Tollan showed their faces and turned the tide against us."

"Ahh, the price of Bast's adventurism." Yu chided softly. "You see now that all Bast's Union has done is forced the lesser races to unite against us. Before they had been quite content to ignore one another for the most part, concerned only with their own problems. Bast has given them common cause. Had she acted like a true System Lord, and treated them as the lesser beings that they are and ignored them, they would have fallen one by one before our might."

Kiptakanae said nothing, fuming silently at the mocking tone of Yu's voice.

Yu, for his part, wiped the smile off his face and narrowed his eyes at the dissatisfied Unionist. "Are you ready, now, to make that first step?"

Kiptakanae stared off to the side, his mind spinning furiously.

"Are you ready to remove the Abomination before she brings the entire Galaxy down upon us?" Yu hammered home his point, reminding the other System Lord of the rumors that Bast had taken a Jaffa, her First Prime as a lover, against all the codes and mores of Goa'uld civilisation.

Silently but firmly, Kiptakane nodded in affirmation. "When I return to Sohag, I will gather those who see her for what she truly is, and soon after that, she will die the death of the Shol'va!" He spat out, his anger at everything that had come to pass fueling his hatred of Bast. That hate overwhelmed his initial misgivings and he felt a surge of glorious power as he thought about killing Bast and bringing the Union down once and for all.  
  
  
  
  


**THE END**  
  
  
  


THE STORY CONCLUDES WITH, **FOUNDATIONS OF SAND**, THE FINAL PART OF THE SPEARHEAD SAGA.  
  
  



End file.
